Stocke continues to hold on, grimly. Shades are known for their tenacity in going after grudges; the only difference in Stocke is that he's more impatient, willing to risk more damage rather than following until the perfect opportunity presents itself. Perhaps it comes of being one of the youngest shades around.

He doesn't make a noise even when Amelia scores across his eyes, though the immediate reaction is a flinch. What's not clawed across snaps shut; the shade grits the teeth holding Amelia's arm in retaliation.

Then they slam into the roof and his grip finally loosens. Stocke dissolves into shadows and rolls away, righting himself. The winds blow him further as he tries to reform - he ends up crouching on the roof, claws on hands and feet digging into the tile.