the curse of dark mountain

The horned boy offered no resistance which honestly only served to infuriate Pyrrhic further. "I don't want your sorry! Fight me you bastard!" He leaned down and screamed in Erystotle's face. "Fight me!" He wanted a reason to kill him. It wasn't satisfying to beat on a downed man; to look down on Erystotle who lay with his eyes full of tears and his tail tucked between his legs. Pyrrhic wanted a struggle. He wanted to hurt and to cause hurt.

And he wasn't getting one. Frustrated he snarled in Erystotle's face and then straightened, his jaw clenching as he briefly looked up into the sky. Suddenly his throat felt tight and his eyes stung. The next breath he took was a gasp. His lip trembled. "Just fight," he said softly.