Whimpers and moans of pain slipped through Aizetsu’s lips as he leaned against a tree, his clawed hand gripping at his stomach that was impaled through with a Hashira’s powerful strike of their sword. He managed to get away, grudgingly that is, but he was seemingly the last of his brothers to hide and go unnoticed. Though, his demon eyes widened as he caught sight of a figure, his sorrowful expression turning more fearful as his frown deepened. He desperately tried to get up off the ground, one hand on the ground whilst the other still holding his injured stomach as small mews and moans of pain from not being able to muster up enough strength to hold himself up and run. Overall, it was a rather pathetic sight, especially for a high ranking demon such as himself.