The quick recoil almost sparked his temper more. Fight was a more common reaction for Raksha than flight had ever been. He wanted a fight and Torin wasn't giving him one. Exhaling sharply through his nose, a faintly feline reaction even without the tiger, he considered the blond. There was satisfaction at seeing the way the blond was bothered by his pain, by the blood and bruising. Nor did he miss that Torin noticed how close they stood. Raksha had far too much practice at reading body language and subtle nonverbal cues to miss them now.
Rather than retreat, he closed another inch until they were almost nose to nose, gaze intent. "Does it bother you?" The words were soft but knife sharp, "Worried I might be unable to fulfill my duties?" He could smell the scent that was uniquely Torin, even if a far more muted version than he was used to. "What if it does? Maybe it makes me feel better."