Anom’s heavy footfall was able to plant itself on the ground forcefully after the impact with the cat. Luckily for him his greave alone weighed more than it, so he just barely managed to remain standing now that he was able to brace himself with both feet on the ground. Any lesser man would have taken a tumble. The cat who had hit him would likely be the one falling here, having ran face first into metal. The impact, he imagined, could even have been fatal if it hit him poorly, but he couldn’t tell at all with all the racket at his face.

His right hand was glued to his weapon so in an attempt to remove the cat in his left armpit he couldn’t grab at it, but instead hammered the pommel of the makeshift sword down towards it’s general location. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the head would be so went for the likely location of it’s center of mass based on where the claws were digging onto his armor. The cat in his right armpit couldn’t be reached while he was doing this, so instead his left fist punched towards the cat on his right shoulder, the one meowing his ears off. It was really easy to pinpoint this one’s face, as one might imagine.

He felt a pressure stabbing against his left knee, causing it to buckle but his armor remained resolute for now. On the downside both of his legs were now slightly askew so he felt himself dangerously close to falling over. Perhaps that cat’s sacrifice hadn’t been in vain after all! His mind raced how to deal with this situation as more daggers began to form out of the holes in his armor. They would surely come in handy.

In all this mess he didn’t even notice the last attack hitting him, nor feel it when it had. He was now under a spell he didn't even know was upon him.