The punch to the jaw rattled what little brains Gibney possessed around in his head. He twisted and was ready to spring back up when he saw that boot coming. He twisted his body enough to soften the impact a bit, keeping his body loose so the damage would be minimized, but damn... it still hurt. Like fucking hell. Growling deeply, the feral twisted himself onto one elbow, propping himself up with that arm. And of course, Creed decided to mash his huge boot down on his clawed hand. Fuckin' lunkheaded asshole.
Not about to back down, Gibney twisted his head back and spat up at Creed. It was not the kind of behavior for the whelp, but the attitude and energy of the larger feral was driving him to behave quite poorly, it seemed. "Fuck... you..." He growled through gritted teeth, pain giving him unexpected strength and determination. He was about to attempt to lash out a clawed foot at one of the larger feral's legs when quite unexpectedly froze solid again, gold-flecked eyes going wide.
"SHIT!" The exclamation was loud, a familiar scent having reached him. Jason was here, what the fuck else could go wrong? If this big, surly asshole did anything to Jason... He swallowed another growl, the intensity of the dark energy that the Illusionist was throwing off sending cold chills up his spine. Jason did not stand a chance against this big brute, what the fuck was the man thinking? They needed a guard or... well... maybe a dozen to get this loose canon under control before he hurt Jason or Lorna. FUCK why was his body so damned tired all the time? He felt so utterly useless.