Rathus hit the ground, grabbing his head as something raked against his very thoughts. He snarled and roared in pain, but in wasn't enough to stop him when he saw the woman with hair like the night lunge for him, weapons drawn and aimed expertly. Rathus had just enough time to react, back peddling as he avoided the sharp objects, but the migraine was taking it's toll. In a flash of fangs and claws, Rathus tried going on the offensive. Wrecking whatever got in his way, hay bails, livestock stalls, support pillars, the beast struggled to hit his mark. Finally, he pinned the night woman to a wall of the barn by her wrists, and their eyes met unintentionally. A spark of rage lit in Rathus' mind, and the woman could see it. The eyes are the windows of the soul, but the beast shouldn't have a soul, so why could something be seen? Rathus was about to attack for the kill when he heard something. Hooves and steel. In his moment of pause, he gave the woman the perfect chance to strike.<br/><br/>The woman could see a whirlwind of rage and hunger in the eyes of the beast. Blood bathed his thoughts and pain radiated into every movement. She could see, if she chose to look deeper, a figure. It was that of a man. He was a bit taller than most men, looked a bit stronger than most men, but nothing spectacular or rare, save the claw scars on his chest. Nothing more could be made out of the fleeting image