Crom watched the werewolf before him. Soah affirmed his suspicions sarcastically and taunted the soldier. Crom didn't budge, his cold blue eyes locking with the werewolf's. "Well, show me what you've got then." he said, his voice gruff. "Johnathon, I'd suggest you move lad, this could get serious." His hand tightened around his weapon, his free hand was hidden beneath his cloak. The creature leaped forward with inhuman speed. One of the beast's claws struck out to grab his sword arm, the other stabbed towards his chest. Without a moment's hesitation, the grizzled veteran twirled around the strike with surprising grace for a man of his stature. The grab missed entirely, but the stab clipped his cloak as he turned, tearing a bit of the stained grey fabric. Not having time or room to draw his sword, the former knight acted as quickly as he could, his free hand pulling his knife from it's sheath. He flipped the knife upside down and swung a quick downward stab towards the werewolf's arm. The knife was a simple tool, likely made of iron, but it was sharp, and could do some damage. The Esterlian's mind raced. He'd have to gain a moment to draw his sword, otherwise he was at a serious disadvantage.