Aziraphale falls to his knees when she releases him, gasping and bracing on his sword. He struggles forward, reaching out in a desperate attempt to pull Illyria back, or perhaps to recover Orisa himself - stupid, involving herself, he had this in hand! - whatever it is, an attempt far too late. A shock of strange, foreign pain rips through him when she seizes Orisa and wrenches her away from the beast; he lets out a startled yell, overcome by this unfamiliar, terrible sensation. Is this what she'd felt when her beast had touched him? This rank sort of violation?

He breathes out in a ragged, relieved burst when she flings Orisa aside, though he feels her violent impact against the tree reverberating painfully through his body. He turns his back on the enemy, now concerned only with the snake's wellbeing.

"Orisa!" he cries, his sword vanishing as he gathers her up. "Are - are you?"

"I'm all right, stupid," she says, sounding hassled and alarmed. "Are you?"

"You shouldn't have - I was fine!" He holds her close in spite of himself, only distantly surprised at how much this creature means to him, having only known her a short while - and yet, what feels like the whole of his existence.

"I've always been with you," she says, soft and impatient. "Always. Don't you understand?"

He does, after a moment, though it's difficult to comprehend. He glances back to Illyria and her creature, curious to know how they fare, knowing what he now knows.