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Trent felt absolutely demeaned to be laying on the ground submitting to a pup once he found out who his assailant was, but his fear kept him from getting up and whacking the kid over the back of the head for hurting his leg, or anything like that. He stayed in the very same position as he was, pressed to the ground, even as he felt the pressure release his leg. Trent was absolutely disgusted with himself for being unable to stand up for himself and do something about this pitiful state he was in. Disgusted with his own fear. Damn it, why was he such a coward?
The King's house was all that really got through to Trent from the boy's words, and he felt himself panic all over again. It was kind of like entering the Alpha's den and then being found floored by his puppy. Which couldn't really be any good. Trent wanted to get out of there as fast as he could, his mind clouded by any other course of action, but he was afraid that the little boy might tell on him and that his father would come after all. What if he'd be kicked out of the pack?! Trent wasn't able to deal with any of it right now, all of the prospects, and he gasped for air with his eyes closed as he lay pressed to the ground, most of his face covered by his unruly hair.
After a moment of alone-time in his own head Trent still found himself unable to stop breathing heavily and panicking, afraid that the boy's father would come and kick him out, or worse, mess up his pristine face and leave some scars. Then he'd not only be homeless, but everyone could see he was a suck-ass fighter, too.
Since he couldn't find a way to deal with all of his panic, Trent didn't respond to the boy's words; all he did was keep himself glued to the ground in terrified submission, gasping for air with his eyes clenched shut like a fish that had been tossed onto the shore.