A hulking brute of a man emerged, seemingly unscathed, from the smoke and dust of the explosion.

He was clad in little more than red warpaint and a tatty and stained loincloth, brandishing a rather oversized broad axe. For some reason, seeing an axe rankled Cedar's fur more than it should have, conjuring many memories of having to bludgeon foolish lumberjacks who had set eyes on trees they shouldn't, and bringing memories of his father lecturing him about not killing people, no matter how big of an asshole they are, unless you really and truly mean it.

[i]("[color=a36209]No matt'r haow big 'n dumb they is, Ya's big 'nuff ta prolly keel em in one hit if'n ya ain't careful son...[/color]") [/i]

The memory of that first day helping his dad keep order against 'poachers' strolled through his head completely unbidden.
[i]
("[color=a36209]I's seen what yas did wit 'at deer 'odder day... Good work 'ere-- Proud a ya...[/color]")[/i]

He remembered.  He had found a deer with an arrow stuck through its hock, where a village hunter had tried to shoot it, but it had bolted at the last minute, getting hit in a non-critical, and escaping with the arrow lodged in.  He remembered that he had just learned how to heal injuries from Flo a few days before, and the opportunity to use the magic had been real exciting for him. He had coaxed the frightened and injured beast into letting him treat it, but was unaware his dad had been watching. His ears burned a little in embarrassment at the memory.

[i]([color=a36209]"But no ma'aer how good yas gets wit' 'at, no magic in'a worl' kin brings back da dead. Only keels a fucker when yas real damn good & sure. Naow, le's show 'is 'gentleman' da 'error' o' his ways, eh?"[/color])[/i]

(Only if I really and truly mean it...) he thought to himself.

Silently, he expertly flipped the pole-arm upside down, so that the blunt end was up, then aimed his shot, making a wide and hard sweep across the side and back of the man's knees.  The hit had much more resistance than should have been there; like striking a stone that had a thin coating of dirt and moss. Not stopping from the anomalous impact, he continued the motion with full body momentum, whirling then bringing the bladed end down hard over the man's hands and forearms where he has holding the haft of the large axe. 

(I can totally fix mangled arms and legs, Dad.) he thought bemusedly to himself, before allowing his momentum to body-check the man into the table.