they argued my right to ascension

This man, fairy- whatever. Is entirely like a cockroach. It simply continues to survive what would have killed most beings by now, even if only from the sheer shock of it. Then again, he supposes, he has not tried to deliberately hard to murder the creature, he has merely been toying with it, injuring it slowly, letting it limp and flop about like a cat with a mouse until he becomes bored with it. Truly the little bug must really want to live if he was still trying to run, limping and stumbling about as he was in the wake of the tree erupting. How much further, truly, would he have to push this man before he started begging for death? So many of them did, in the end, even without his own interference. Vampires whom have lived to long, young Were's whom couldn't face the pain of another change, Fae kidnapped from families and changed- they all came to him in the end, desiring the same thing. Those whom came willingly though he was kind too. He gave them the quick ending they sort. If only it were that simply for his own kind. He'd already lived a lifetime. He didn't need to live it again and yet he is doomed to repeat it, over and over, for years and years and years until finally some creature gets the better of him. It would happen one day, he was sure. Today however, is merely another day at work, something to suffer through and if he is going to suffer his own existence then this Fae was going to do the same- for at least what little time he had left.

He merely strolls after the stumbling, bleeding Fae, following the man towards the banks of a river, a ball of light still tossed easily within his hand as if this entire event is nearly boring to him. The life of a fairy, after all, is worth nothing to him. Hell, even the body of this one was worth precious little. It seemed however his game was over, the Fae either couldn't swim, wasn't going to try, or had evidently forgotten how to fly- maybe he couldn't. Not that flight would truly have helped him. The Fae's sudden defiance of the situation however, saw the Hunter pause before him, both eyes lifted momentarily upward. This was- new. The man had seemed decidedly cowardly until this point, though evidently backed into a corner it was going to attempt to fight. How and with what the Hunter truly had no idea, the man sufficiently injured and yet it was his bruised pride that seemed to be talking now, demanding some sort of...what, fistfight? Very well then. He allows the glaming ball of light within his hand to die, the Hunter having been only mere seconds from launching it at the Fae and finishing this entirely and yet for whatever reason he simply chooses to humour him.

If he thought he held some sort of a chance in a fistfight then so be it, the Fae decidedly outmatched even there. Azrael is as any Hunter, stronger and faster than any normal human and yet with his edition of speed he could deliver multiple punches within seconds. It would have been a kinder death to merely incinerate him rather then beat him black and blue. It was at least mildly respectable, he supposed, for the Fe boy to want to die on his feet.

"Very well. Although you don't count as a man. Fae are not men."

It was the very basis of what he had learned as a Hunter. Vampires, Weres, Fae......they were not men or women or even human. Witches were something of a grey area but they alone held that excuse. The others were merely parasites on the world. A rush of speed sees him appear directly before the boy now (Azrael clearly does not believe in fair play at all), a right hook aimed squarely at the side of the Fae's face before the hunter steps deftly back to dodge any sudden attempt at retaliation from his opponent, assuming the damn fool hadn't been knocked out by that alone. He was done playing with this one. Determined now to kill it with his next strike.

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread