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The strength in that bitten arm had not seemed to wane. Even as he twisted that fist into the ribs of that coyote, the Korean seemed tireless. Each blow that was given was given relentlessly, mercilessly, as if he believed that the goodness in the man could be destroyed. And for all the strength, this man was still a mortal, and he could still be killed—he could feel it in every moment of contact. A sneer marred his maw, clawed his lips. His daughter had fallen in Love with this. The Raven had informed him. The black soul wanted to laugh. Had she ridden him like this? Those vulgarities brought that sneer. How easy it would be. How easy it was going to be. And such simplicity would not be due to his wooing, as he had begun to do with the girl that hid in that room. It would be due to his daughter’s will. He had promised the lighter brute whom he had met upon his arrival to these lands: she would come willingly, and he would keep her.
Of all attacks, that one was not anticipated. A hissing growl escaped the pied wolf’s jaws. His hands released the coyote as he moved back into the desk behind him, half standing half crouching. The black orbs were wild and feral for a moment as the snarl lost its mocking touch, becoming only a vicious, cruel distortion. His wrists were crossed before him, held in the air above his stomach as he breathed that hissing breath of a snake. Those eyes watched the masked enemy as the dull, red pain kept him bent over. But the pain was both excruciating and satisfying, that sinister mind held suspended, unable to chose a single response and wanting both. The black wolf’s head was held low, even in his optime form adopting that feral pose. There was a quiet growl that rolled in the room. And suddenly it turned into that laughter. Slowly, the Korean straightened himself with that gelid ease. It was as if he were enjoying some private joke. And perhaps he was. Perhaps the joke was that this was not the end. He stood facing the doorway with Onus blocking his way, but the girl was close enough.... The brute was still, silently challenging the male to come to him, to finish the fight that was not yet meant to be finished, to leave open to him the path to the girl, to allow that mission to fail.