Reala took deep, steadying breaths as well as he could, trying to will his throat not to clench shut as it was trying to do; it was far harder than it should have been. Still, it worked enough to let him talk, though with some difficulty. "I don't need to hold on to anything." It was the best he could do; his mind was fogged with nausea and pain, too much so to think of anything wittier or more caustic. That said, he pulled his arm off of NiGHTS, swallowing the pain and trying to leave as best he could, once again.

A shame that 'the best he could' wasn't really that good at all, at this point. It was in fact rather slow and unsteady, hardly fit for an escape at all. It would have to do, though....