Bitterroot Valley and i saw nothing here but you

Wielding an axe, yet the touch that comes is tender in comparison to what Kratos yields in strength. There is enough force that it rocks a heavy hit, a pugilist’s punch at a low percentage. The hit barely staggers Zephyr, but it evidently awakens the ice king. Slippery as an eel, Zephyr slips a feint at his forearm, successfully pausing the relenting charge enough to bolt off. A snort exhales from flared nostrils, he rams forth again—this time aiming to attempt grabbing hold of him.