they argued my right to ascension

For at least a few moments, perhaps, the man is entirely focused on the woman within his arms. Whatever fears, doubts or morals had previously existed seemed to dissipate for that single, perfect moment in time in which he is entirely content to lose himself in the witch resting atop him. It has been...months since he has truly sought any attention of a physical nature from any woman and surely there is some hint of something akin to almost desperation in his lips as he finds them upon her own with fevered desire. For all his years and all his morals and beliefs and continually conflicting nature he is still very much a man and certain things- certain needs, still exist within him and perhaps it is this single carnal desire that sees him respond so strongly now. He is not a truly emotional being, or more so, he is rarely given to express any sense of what he may truly feel beneath that façade of often aggressive indifference that he struggles so pointedly to maintain. To admit any sense of feeling for the woman is...difficult, a flow of words he may very well regret announcing later on and yet for now all such things seem trivial in comparison as his grip upon her tightens ever so slightly, hands moving to rest upon her hips- Raven having failed to exist at all within the confines of his mind until a rather sudden 'thump' seemed to echo within the room and the woman he had momentarily been enjoying seemed to disappear entirely.

For several moments more than man seems momentarily confused, mind fighting to work through the thickened haze it has worked itself into before something collided solidly with the side of his face. It takes several more seconds for the man to fully register just what is occurring, the sudden click of the harpoon pointed towards him however sees those golden eyes narrow in distinct dislike before his speed merely sees him disappear entirely from the place he had momentarily lain- an impossible target for the wolf to hit no matter how hard she might try. Where he had disappeared to remains unclear, the Hunter only reappearing once the fun had clattered the floor and the wolf whom had seen fit to punch him had collapsed back upon the bed. She was a distinctly irritable creature, one he had endeavoured to some extent to assist of only for the sake of the witch and yet evidently the little wretch hardly cared all the same. Whatever manner of his own irritation remained inclined to flare however failed to fully express itself in the wake of Serafina's sudden vocalisation. For a moment more the gold of his gaze flickers to her own, drifting towards the bathroom where the Alpha and his Beta lay unconscious as she spoke- the man remaining silent all the same. For all his irritation at the wolf...this- is not his fight to be had, leaving the witch to express her own evident disdain for her pet- or ex-pet as the wolf seemed to collapse into an exhausted sleep, his jaw already having healed from her attempts at a punch (a decent effort really but not nearly enough to truly bother him).

"Then we'll be gone before she's awake. If you'd rather I kill her as opposed to heal her then I can offer you that- I can do it without her feeling a thing and yet I do not truly believe that is an outcome you want to see regardless of your disdain for her. I will help her because I said I would and yet this ends any relationship I have with her- the next time I see her she is fair game for my blade. Her or any of her pack."

The implication was surely clear enough. If the witch sought to break ties with her dog- then he held no need to turn the other way in regards to her actions any longer. Whatever...emotion the witch may have felt for her familiar had seen him...hesitate in harming the animal before and yet without Serafina's protection, in a sense, Azrael so no true purpose to foster the existence of the beast any longer beyond the single act he sought fit to perform now.

"It is an animal, Serafina..."

His words are...softer, this time, gaze resting again upon the young woman beneath that fringe of equally golden hair, seeking to draw her attention to his own once more.

"Perhaps it wears a human skin, but at her core, she and they, are animals. They are designed to be selfish and to exist only for pack because it denotes their survival. She would just as soon bite you as she would lick your boots in greeting. She is only half a human, her emotions are basal- she would never understand anything more or understand you- she cannot."

His shoulders simply move to roll in a shrug of sorts as he crosses the floor again, his words designed perhaps, to at least offer the woman some sense of comfort in her decision to break away from the animal, though a distinct disdain for the creatures surely exists within each barbed, potent word. He loathes them, Were's, more than any other species, each worded coated in that evident hate and yet he remains civil all the same as he reaches her bedside.

"If you going to break whatever.....spell you have on her then I ask only that you wait until I am not near her, your magic, in any form is something I do not truly maintain comfort with just yet."

He pauses only once, eyes turning back to meet her own in this admittance, to assure her he was firm in this belief, his words however, for the first time a....request as opposed to a demand as he reaches into one of the many pockets of his jeans, unfolding the rather handy travel-sized first aid kit on the bed beside the unconscious wolf. His own powers however are engaged all the same, just enough of his control for gravity summoned forward to pin the wolf to the bed all the same lest she wake before he moves to peel back the covers and properly examine the girl.....and her hideously discoloured flesh.

"Fucking animals."

It is all he offers, gaze flicking from one blistered wound to the next, frostbite- to the second degree in most places- the indentation in her sides indicating broken ribs let alone her other damaged limbs. Had anyone attempted to heal her? Or had they merely licked the wounds in the hope saliva would somehow heal her fractured body. Another mutter of sorts falls from his lips as he works, incapable of setting her broken limbs and yet with enough stillness they would heal in time, for her ribs only rest would suffice. It is her festering wounds that he remains more concerned about. His work in this, at least, is silent and methodical, cleaning out each wound with heated water until it bled freshly, cutting at any part of her skin that had died or become far to infected to be saved- her wounds small enough to close in their own time though he dresses them all the same- pausing briefly at the evident bite marks upon her. For an animal without fangs, the stallion had managed to maul her skin all the same, the wolf teeth in the back of its mouth having ripped the flesh at all angels, making the wounds only that much harder to clean. Stitches, in truth, were surely needed and yet without an anaesthetic he is reluctant to attempt such a thing. Her natural healing, regardless- now that it has surely been given a chance to work, would make such effort moot all the same as he finishes the last bandage. The girl significantly cleaner in the wake of his efforts as he steps away at last. Turning now to the raven-haired witch once more.

"Have you anything else to do? Otherwise I suggest we leave before she wakes and starts prattling on at me again. My patience will not last with her a second time. I am...."

There is a distinct pause now, handsome features content to frown, indecision evident in each line of that toned, lithe frame as he stands, gaze fixated upon the sleeping woman now though it is to the witch he speaks- a sigh parting his lips at last.

"I am going home to get lunch before I need to go out again tonight. Would you.....like to join me?"

His gaze flickers sideways, meeting her own fleetingly before his attention moves away once more. It has been....years since he has made such an offer to anyone and perhaps he simply anticipates her refusal- for surely she should. Every part of her should loath his very existence and perhaps it would be better if she did.

"Perhaps- we could try...to be friends in the very least. I am not a particularly good friend I don't believe, my lack of them would suggest that, but I am willing to try it. Friends who...make out occasionally. Whatever category that is."

It exists for barely a moment, so very fleeting she may well have missed it entirely and yet he seems to very near manage a simper of sorts, a hint of amusement seeping through that normally frosted façade to dance so smoothly across his features in a good natured smile. If she had no interest in such a thing, then so be it, it is perhaps the first olive branch he has ever truly extended to her though whether she chose to take it would be her choice alone.

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread