Redhawk Caldera Ten things you didn't know

Their sameness bled from the fresh wound on his shoulder; that blood which ran through both their veins, which likened Reyes so much to the father he'd never met, and the aunt he now despised, linked them for eternity. He would never be able to separate the innate connection he held with Niamh regardless of how often they argued, nor how fervently they fought one-another. They were both bullish, pig-headed messes; this sameness meant that, when Niamh squared off for another round, so did Reyes.

His shoulder ached. A crimson streak matted the dark fur where the skin had been ripped clear away from muscle. She threw herself towards the wound and tried to grab for it again. Reyes' legs were starting to get stiff but he was now fueled as much by adrenaline as by the twisted rage of past trauma, so he was not yet slowed by the injury. If anything he was empowered — and welcomed the closing of the gap between Niamh and himself, eager to sink his teeth in to her as payback.

She aimed for his shoulder and he anticipated as much. Teeth snapped, he ducked, she pivoted, he moved with her; then at last he launched with open jaws at her nearest leg, her shoulder, any part he could reach and drive back with slicing teeth. Reyes had lost a piece of himself and he was owed a pound of flesh.