[he's already on his feet by the time she yanks the blade from the ground, readying himself to move, to lunge, to tear out her throat with his bare hands, but just like that she's launching up and away. Flying away. Pain still sears him from the inside out as flesh muscle internal organs sizzle and fizz with the healing process, but none of that shows on his face as he looks after her, grin spread wide, face a mask of blood and death but none of that matters, no, not now. She glances back for just a moment, and then she's gone.
It gives him time, the area clear of all but blood and viscera and the corpses of those who hadn't been able to escape him, and so he takes a moment to move over to the nearest wall, lean there panting. It hurts, but not for long. He'll be ready for more in less than a minute, maybe two at most, more people will die by his hands this day, but--
--but. That was interesting. Her face, her scent, he won't soon forget it.]
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It gives him time, the area clear of all but blood and viscera and the corpses of those who hadn't been able to escape him, and so he takes a moment to move over to the nearest wall, lean there panting. It hurts, but not for long. He'll be ready for more in less than a minute, maybe two at most, more people will die by his hands this day, but--
--but. That was interesting. Her face, her scent, he won't soon forget it.]