Grell took the punch easily but avoided the leg sweep not wanting to dirty his pretty red coat again. The punch wasn't weak, but death gods tend to be rather hardy creatures. It wouldn't do to get himself injured at every mission, after all.
"What's the hurry?" The redhead grinned, leaning against the lamppost to glance up at the stars and the full moon above. "The stars are so pretty tonight. And the moon," he wiped off a bit of blood off his chainsaw and licked at it. "Makes a woman go mad."