Herbalists' Cache i've got a taste for blood

Little razor teeth nip at his shoulder—amusement flickers, and instead of retreating from the touch, he leans into it. A disappointed exhale escapes him the second Ghost pulls away. Firestorm straightens, and then sags his broad shoulders. A light bulb clicks a moment later—
Yet he is distracted from mischief by Ghost’s  request.
Yeah. If there is anything Firestorm is good at, it is fighting. Although he’s never been a teacher himself, and the practices in which he had been taught are far from optimal, it is what his muscles itch for. It’d be the perfect escape. Now?