Wrath's glare tightens along with his grip, and the hapless bystander is hoisted into the air for the briefest instant, before the grimcleaver comes around with a horrifying<em>crunch</em>.  Without pause, he upends whatever piece of the poor guy is still left in his hand, slurping a mouthful of fresh, hot blood (and hearing his coadjutator grunt in appreciation), before tossing the mangled corpse aside.<br/><br/>He turns, then, to see if he can find a mortal with at least the decency to answer a simple question.