Dry laughter escaped his lips as the evening wind gusted around him, delivering that world weary intonation to whatever served as the Wolf’s ears, the laughter of the slightly unhinged, but of one who is all too aware of that fact. It was not a bubbling cackle, not like that which spouted forth when he imbibed the dark stuff, oh no. The cause for such merriment? The oddity of the Wolf’s purpose, nothing less.

“So you wish to fight me now?” His hand almost shifted onto the handle of his pistol, gripping tight. If he did that, it would be a fight to the death if he was not mistaken. He resisted temptation and paused, tilting his head quizzically as he thought the words over.

“Of course, I gather from what you said that you’re not interested in my life, but an honest fight between two respected adversaries, a conflict between two old foes if you will?” He paused to think about it for a moment, every logical part of his body was screaming at him to turn, or to shoot, not to engage in a bout of magical fisticuffs with a creature he honestly believed to be his superior in power. His logical side was overruled, the Wolf had come a long way, give him his fight. Most damage could be repaired so long as he had mana anyway. First though, an opening gambit to adjust the scales in his favour.

“If you wish for a respectable fight, I would suggest we lay aside our weapons.” He grinned that nasty grin of his, feral almost, his overly long canines on display. With a shrug, he unclipped his pistol belt and unsheathed his knife, holding them to either side with peaceful intent. Of course, should Daniel refuse to disarm he could always re-equip the weapons, but he’d also go into battle with the moral high ground if that were the case. That used to mean something once.