Overture Downs your mother's throat clicks and my spirit swims right to the hook

This time, there was no stomach-curdling sense of remorse when it smacked Phaedra directly in the face. Aventus didn't see it, having turned his back the moment it left his teeth, but there was no mistaking the fhump of feathers hitting muzzle, nor the splutter that ended her words.

Despite himself, he bared his teeth and let his shoulders shake with a rumbling chortle. Served her right. He should have known better than to mess with a woman, considering his mother and sister both, but Aventus was a man. Obviously, he was better than her. Obviously, she wouldn't dare to oppose him. Obviously. She had been about to apologize, he was certain. A meek and beautiful little thing was Phaedra, he imagined, demure and mouse-like. A touch rude, yes, but that could be ch—

He stumbled a step when a weight hit the back of his head and pitched his neck forward, wafting the perfume of blood all around him. It tumbled to his shoulder and bounced off onto the rocks. The Bruin-jaw stood stock-still, his mirth melting into disbelief and then indignation. He snatched the killdeer up and spun in one smooth motion, marching toward her with a spark of something malevolent in his bright eyes and a twinge of something longing in his belly.

He wore a grin around the bloody pulp, however, transforming his malevolence into the likeness of a small child holding a booger aloft on their finger and seeking a perfect target to wipe it on as he stalked toward Phaedra, intent on verily shoving it down her throat.