[ The added pressure of a second hand against his throat earns a fresh round of struggling; Dokja might have to bear down harder to keep Gen in place despite the way he thrashes against the ground hard enough to scuff up his own clothes, boot soles scraping against the ground as he kicks and jerks. Even the clawing at Dokja's forearms intensifies as Gen spits between ragged breaths, ]

You think I couldn't?! You weren't worth the effort!

[ The fury in his inflection hasn't waned in the slightest, but Dokja might notice the anxious way Gen's gaze flickers towards Dokja's arms for a moment, his throat working hard beneath the press of palms, the way cold sweat beads at his brow. Because even as he invites the prospect of death upon himself, he can't help being a little scared. Dirt rustles and scrapes beneath them as Gen haplessly tries to crane his head away from the brush of Dokja's fingertips, and even as his breaths tighten into shallower rasps, he's sure he means it when he snarls, ]

Get your hits in now, 'cause I'm gonna kill you the next time I see you!

[ Maybe saying this will get the guy to really try to kill him. Wouldn't that be nice. Maybe. Isn't that what he'd been wanting before ending up here, anyway? -- he's not even sure any more. ]