Haunted Wood King Dick of F*ck Mountain

The boy called it. He had enough, but Abaddon did not. He tightened his grip just a little before reluctantly letting go, stepping back while running the pink muscle across his mug in order to savor every drop that may have collected along them. Hmmm. Twisting his head just enough to watch the boy with one glacial eye, staring with a frosty window while deciding on what to do next. 

Should he just follow along with his previous promise? At least he wouldn't need to fight this boy if he did want to get what he wanted by force - but... No. where was the fun in that? With a toothy grin he challenged the boy to follow through with his threat, hackles raised, he seemed all too pleased to defend himself and not give up any part of him willingly. He felt much stronger now after all now that the hunger had been satisfied.

Unlike the boy, he was not wobbly. His stance was firm, certain on his ground against this boy. It wasn't like they were packmates, after all, he had no ties to this place, to its people, in order to play nice with some whelp.