It would be so easy to set the man aflame. He wouldn't die from it. He couldn't die anymore, really, so if Avery did go that route, Ekkehardt had no reason to complain. Even so, the magic doesn't go any further than a spark at his fingers, not even close to the roaring flames he's thrown before.
The thrill of the fight continues to pump in his veins, more intense than he had ever felt it before, like lightning under his skin. He's not sure if it's the promise of more that stays his hand, or the truce they'd only just forged, or that part of him that's always strived to be a good man that ultimately stays his hand.
Hell, it could even be as simple as the fact that he's still having to dodge the very thorns he's summoned.
One manages to smack him in the stomach and he growls and swats it away. "Okay, so summoning these may not have been the best idea."
That draws a laugh that's practically a cackle from him as he extricates himself. They're determined to keep him locked down; he supposes it's a reflection of their master's determination.
"They're unruly, but I didn't expect anything less from you. You'll just have to teach them who the leader is, so they stop getting in your way."
The burning, coiling presence of the beast locked in his ribcage physically stirs, just a little. Even that simple motion is enough for fever-bright heat to radiate outwards for a brief moment, making them shy away from him entirely.
He's not one to let Avery get away with getting so distracted, though. As soon as he manages to free himself enough, there's another shifting movement in the air; he exhales uselessly and leaps on Avery again, aiming to get both of them away from the thrashing plants.
Maybe the man will realise what he's doing, and dodge him. Either way, it gets him out of range - hopefully.
The heat catches his attention in an instant, his focus on Ekkehardt narrowed enough that he manages to dodge with ease, then leaps at Ekkehardt himself. "Too bad you don't have skin!" he taunts. "These claws would be way more useful if you did."
A part of him recoils in horror at his own words. The part still in battle thinks nothing of it. But there's an unease growing within him now, swallowing up the bloodlust little by little.
"Oh, we're moving onto skinning, now? You really are vicious, aren't you?" His voice is dark and amused (and maybe a little displeased, all the same. It veers too close to old encounters and old scars).
Rather than try to flee, he seizes the opportunity to try and lock the other man down. He twists his body and lunges, aiming to strike Avery in the chest with his shoulder and knock him down. He might even wind him, if he strikes precisely enough.
It hits true, and the growing doubt within Avery is glad it does. He coughs and hacks, trying to catch his breath. The movement of the vines nearby begin to slow, the electricity within starting to fade away.
He doesn't bother getting up once he can breathe again, his gaze fixed on the sky above. "You actually want me to practice after all that?" he murmurs.
The vines nearby finally disperse, dissolving into tiny motes of darkness that disappear.
"I've never felt like that before." He wants to feel it again, and that alone is terrifying.
"Of course I do. If I kept having to leap in to defend you to prevent all of my hard work from going to waste, I imagine your pride couldn't take it." He inspects himself for injury, wincing a little as he touches a spot where the fire had burned him even through his barriers. Heat radiates from the spot as he does something to it, though it's unclear what.
He lifts his head to give Ekkehardt a strange look, then finally starts to push himself into a sitting position. He winces, the cut in his shoulder making itself known. "That's it? That's all you have to say? I said I would tear into you with my own hands!"
"You say that like I've never been threatened before. And if you really wanted to do it, then you would have at least tried harder."
He reaches out, stopping short of touching the other man, and there's another burst of heat as the injury seals itself near-instantly. It still hurts, but the bleeding has stopped, leaving little more than a scar.
There's a pause before he speaks again. "I could have cut your throat instead of your shoulder, but I didn't. So we're even, I would think." The admittance is casual.
Avery was lost to the fight, neck deep in bloodlust, more monster than man. Sure, he's always enjoyed battle. Vanessa had always been his number one goal, but he had never once shied away from a fight or adventure, searched it out even.
But this... This had been different. And Ekkehardt shrugged it off as though it was nothing. Healed him. Called them even.
He just didn't get it.
"Right," he sighs out, and rubs his forehead. "Um. Thanks." He waves a hand. "Not for the whole 'not slitting my throat thing.' Pretty sure that part's obvious. The shoulder. Healing it, I mean."
He waves a hand again, his tone casual. "This is hardly a fight to the death, so it would be irresponsible of me not to fix what I've caused." At least, for him. For others, it's more a battle of incapacitation.
"You seem a bit confused," he says, looking him over. "Though I suppose you didn't expect me to be a healer, so I forgive the assumption."
He opens his mouth and closes it again, repeating the action several times before he's finally able to speak. "Well... yes but that's not the biggest thing here.
I just don't get you. How are you okay with how I acted? I was hardly better than some... some bloodstarved beast there! And you blow it off like nothing happened?"
He merely shrugs. He's taking this whole thing much better than Avery is, apparently. "What's done is done. Making you feel guilty for it is foolish. And it's not a sin to enjoy yourself in combat."
He shakes his head. "Put another way...does thinking about all those you killed in defense of your kingdom feel better if you stained their hands with your blood without feeling anything? Death is death."
If it's not a sin, it sure feels like one. "I don't know," he answers honestly. "I feel like I at least owe them some guilt, but..." But even before all of this, there had only been triumph.
Maybe something's been wrong with him since the very start.
He glances at him for a moment, and then sighs. "Well, do what you like. Wallowing in self-pity and bemoaning your feelings is an unproductive activity, but if it truly makes you feel better, I suppose I can't argue it."
He'd almost said unattractive, which was technically true but an odd choice of word to pop into his head. He puts it out of his mind.
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The thrill of the fight continues to pump in his veins, more intense than he had ever felt it before, like lightning under his skin. He's not sure if it's the promise of more that stays his hand, or the truce they'd only just forged, or that part of him that's always strived to be a good man that ultimately stays his hand.
Hell, it could even be as simple as the fact that he's still having to dodge the very thorns he's summoned.
One manages to smack him in the stomach and he growls and swats it away. "Okay, so summoning these may not have been the best idea."
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"They're unruly, but I didn't expect anything less from you. You'll just have to teach them who the leader is, so they stop getting in your way."
The burning, coiling presence of the beast locked in his ribcage physically stirs, just a little. Even that simple motion is enough for fever-bright heat to radiate outwards for a brief moment, making them shy away from him entirely.
He's not one to let Avery get away with getting so distracted, though. As soon as he manages to free himself enough, there's another shifting movement in the air; he exhales uselessly and leaps on Avery again, aiming to get both of them away from the thrashing plants.
Maybe the man will realise what he's doing, and dodge him. Either way, it gets him out of range - hopefully.
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A part of him recoils in horror at his own words. The part still in battle thinks nothing of it. But there's an unease growing within him now, swallowing up the bloodlust little by little.
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Rather than try to flee, he seizes the opportunity to try and lock the other man down. He twists his body and lunges, aiming to strike Avery in the chest with his shoulder and knock him down. He might even wind him, if he strikes precisely enough.
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He sits back instead, letting the other man catch his breath.
"You need more practice, if someone as rusty as I can catch you out like that."
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The vines nearby finally disperse, dissolving into tiny motes of darkness that disappear.
"I've never felt like that before." He wants to feel it again, and that alone is terrifying.
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He reaches out, stopping short of touching the other man, and there's another burst of heat as the injury seals itself near-instantly. It still hurts, but the bleeding has stopped, leaving little more than a scar.
There's a pause before he speaks again. "I could have cut your throat instead of your shoulder, but I didn't. So we're even, I would think." The admittance is casual.
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Avery was lost to the fight, neck deep in bloodlust, more monster than man. Sure, he's always enjoyed battle. Vanessa had always been his number one goal, but he had never once shied away from a fight or adventure, searched it out even.
But this... This had been different. And Ekkehardt shrugged it off as though it was nothing. Healed him. Called them even.
He just didn't get it.
"Right," he sighs out, and rubs his forehead. "Um. Thanks." He waves a hand. "Not for the whole 'not slitting my throat thing.' Pretty sure that part's obvious. The shoulder. Healing it, I mean."
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"You seem a bit confused," he says, looking him over. "Though I suppose you didn't expect me to be a healer, so I forgive the assumption."
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I just don't get you. How are you okay with how I acted? I was hardly better than some... some bloodstarved beast there! And you blow it off like nothing happened?"
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He shakes his head. "Put another way...does thinking about all those you killed in defense of your kingdom feel better if you stained their hands with your blood without feeling anything? Death is death."
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Maybe something's been wrong with him since the very start.
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He'd almost said unattractive, which was technically true but an odd choice of word to pop into his head. He puts it out of his mind.