Spotted Eagle Mountain Or letting people close

When the beast flew a blow, Khaba reared to avoid it, but was not so fortunate. A heavy paw drew a claw close across his snout. The mazoi snarled, snapping angered jaws in return. But the bear had already gone.
He turned then to the imperator, a crimson flow trickling from his muzzle. His anger had simmered, but was not yet gone. Khaba nodded simply to the man, but gave nothing else.