With panic brought flailing. Hard, frantic flailing that really did begin to hurt, more than the pain of cold fear. His knobby little legs whacked against something solid, repeatedly, until his limbs were sore and bruised. Soon enough, in the midst of his outburst, he heard a deafening crack.
All at once, his world crumbled around him and he was laying somewhere in the darkness, on the cold floor being attacked by cold air. This caused further panic. He was flailing and shrieking on the floor for a few moments, before he shifted and began to concentrate, trembling all over.
Then, heat. Glorious, burning warmth in his paws, his ears and his tail. The panic began to wash away into gentle calmness as his limbs heated up. And continued heating up. It started to hurt his already-hurt limbs. Decidedly, however, he did not care.
Calm, and partially on fire, he lifted himself up to all fours and started to stare out into the yawning darkness, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do now.