foe of a thousand swords

His antlers snagging on flesh in his charge, Björn is pleased with himself. It's a delicate dance, and one he's more than happy to engage in. Enough to make him feel alive, enough to quiet the roar in his head and aching in his chest. The berserker coming to life, heart pounding in his rib cage, everything works in perfect harmony.

As the woman reared back and pushed off, Björn works to steady himself. Taking the hit squarely, he meets her with just as much force. A brawler, he'd come away feeling those bruises tomorrow. Though the shockwave ripples through his system, Björn doesn't falter. Squeezing his eyes shut for only a moment, he allows the pressure in his sinuses to build. When he opens them again, blood streams forth, coating his face and running down his neck. Painting a horrifying picture, it's a projectile and a strange sight.

Though her teeth find the back of his neck, Björn is quick to wrench free. Unwilling to give the upper hand, slamming forward with his shoulders. Foreleg lifting as he attempts to force it over her back, throwing his weight, and lashing out with a reckless toss of his antlered skull.

"Björn"