[Quite frankly, Dimitri isn't entirely sure what he can do in a situation like this. For all the threats he would normally give, that relies on something rather physical. For these - not ghosts, they are not ghosts, they are just, fakes, illusions, some form of tricky meant to distress and beguile, but they are a form of trickery he cannot easily grasp within his hands.]
[So there is no foe he can attack, no body he can sink his fingers into and rip shread to shred. Just images, things that frighten and upset a little girl.]
[Oh, if he would sink his teeth into their throats, especially as the blasted fiend steps closer - ]
[...Only to sink to his knees, movements quiet and more passive than antagonistic, or even properly defiant despite the prior and rather confident step forward.]
[Dimitri is bleeding a bit, somewhere. Distantly, he is aware of it, how cool air hits exposed hot blood. It doesn't really matter, however, and won't even when the adrenaline fades and he is left with its aching aftermath. Instead, he just cradles Eri close, strokes her hair even as nails dig into clothing, into skin.]
Eri. It is going to be okay. Eri. I think... he is happy for you, Eri.
[Not that he has any idea, honestly, but... he knows body language well enough, can recognize it from years spent in the wilderness where he had to watch for every little detail so that he could have some measure of advantage against his opponent. This is nothing like what he is familiar with.]
[Santa is still growling, bristling, but at Dimitri's soft words spoken to Eri even as the blond is still glaring at him... He does relent a little bit.]
[He also, after a moment's consideration, moves his arm over so that he is slightly covering up the gory sight of the businessman's stomach.]
no subject
[So there is no foe he can attack, no body he can sink his fingers into and rip shread to shred. Just images, things that frighten and upset a little girl.]
[Oh, if he would sink his teeth into their throats, especially as the blasted fiend steps closer - ]
[...Only to sink to his knees, movements quiet and more passive than antagonistic, or even properly defiant despite the prior and rather confident step forward.]
[Dimitri is bleeding a bit, somewhere. Distantly, he is aware of it, how cool air hits exposed hot blood. It doesn't really matter, however, and won't even when the adrenaline fades and he is left with its aching aftermath. Instead, he just cradles Eri close, strokes her hair even as nails dig into clothing, into skin.]
Eri. It is going to be okay. Eri. I think... he is happy for you, Eri.
[Not that he has any idea, honestly, but... he knows body language well enough, can recognize it from years spent in the wilderness where he had to watch for every little detail so that he could have some measure of advantage against his opponent. This is nothing like what he is familiar with.]
[Santa is still growling, bristling, but at Dimitri's soft words spoken to Eri even as the blond is still glaring at him... He does relent a little bit.]
[He also, after a moment's consideration, moves his arm over so that he is slightly covering up the gory sight of the businessman's stomach.]
[Helping (tm)]