The Rising Hunger.

The claws on his tiny paw arms suddenly elongated. They glowed a dark light that he couldn't see. He redirected them to his surroundings and applied them to the wall of the birth carnal. The 10 claws tore every obstacle to shred.

He didn't need to use force at all. A simple touch of his claws and flesh parted easily. Blood poured forth as a consequence of his actions. It tried to drown him. But he held his breath. His body rebelled against him. It wants air so it wants to breathe. 

Actively stopping himself from breathing is counterproductive toward that aim. He may not drown from the blood but the absence of air will still kill him. He needs to breathe and soon. But not blood.