Bast heard Ninkasi speak, but never got to the point of making out the words, because she went from cursing Dionysus location the floor, to fighting him in about a nanosecond. The fucker bit her! If that was how he wanted to play it, she was just fine with that. But she wanted some space to maneuver first.
With Dio clinging to, and biting, one leg, she drew back the other and let it fly. And Bast certainly knew how to kick, in many ways, both artistic and martial, so when she aimed her foot at someone, she made sure it connected in the most impactful way possible. This was no exception, and there was a sort of give to the god’s ribcage that let her know she’d broken at least a couple of his ribs.
Yet he kept biting. Adding growls to his repertoire. So Bast kicked him again, in exactly the same spot. This time, with a harsh grunt of pain, he rolled away from her. She took a moment to step back and prepare for his counterattack, which was when she realized he hadn’t stopped rolling. And he wasn’t done attacking, but she was no longer the target. He’d moved on to the Sumerian.
Really, she wasn’t so sure that Dionysus was playing with a full deck anymore.
For a moment, she stood there, indecisive. On the one hand, the fucking bitch deserved it. On the other, Dio was little better than a wild animal at this point. Honestly, she probably would have stood there watching a bit longer before coming to a decision, if she hadn’t remembered what Hermod had said just before the biting began.
For Hermod, and to salvage some of her reputation in front of his mother—since she was pretty sure this was the worst first impression ever and she’d never actually recover from it—Bast sighed and moved forward and tried to get the wine god’s attention off of Ninkasi. Maybe between the two of them they could corral him until he calmed down. Or something.
Then she could punch the bitch in the face with a clear conscience.