[Crocodile would say something about how he's not hurt, this isn't even close to hurt, but he can't because his mouth is currently a pile of sand on the ground. His wrist is grabbed, but he pulls it away and glares because that's... all he can really do right now. But he scoops up that sand in his arms, because it's not heeding him and joining up to make him solid again. He gives her another stern look. He's not going anywhere without that sand because it is his damn face, do you understand?]
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