Blackfeather Woods I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy

He was bigger now. He held a fighting spirit, much more then he had all those weeks ago. Anger, hate, emotions never felt before in earnest flooded him, and he was blinded by the pure force and newness of these emotions. Thus he did not release his grip, growling his own retort, yet childish and weak in comparison. When the other gripped him by the neck, panic joined anger, and he writhed in the other's grip, snapping jaws aiming at the other's chest as his frantic squirming open small laceration;s from Xan's teeth, perhaps unwillingly on Xan's part, but all the more should he clamp down his grip.

Seff was preoccupied with this new anger he felt, directing it in it's entirety toward Xan yet his attacks, mere instinct instead of calculated, may prove largely ineffective.