She took an immediate step backward, her shield coming between his sword and her chest. “You!” She exclaimed in annoyance. Enyo changed the angle of her spear so that it aimed threateningly at his chest. Oh, she should have known he'd be there. Her annoyance was momentary, though, because she realized a moment later that this would be a worthy battle after all. The Norseman was beneath her in skill and importance, as far as she was concerned, but he would give her something other than mortals to fight.
A slow, cruel smile drew on her lips and she answered his statement of offense with, “That is what you are, isn't it? Uncivilized barbarian from the north? Riddled with parasites and disease...” She had fought this one before and she had hoped to fight him again. He wasn't as skilled a warrior as say Nergal of Sumer was, but her opinion of skill meant that ability to detach emotion and righteousness from battle and just fight. Battle for the sake of battle. Bloodshed for the sake of bloodshed.
This one prided himself on justice and doing what was right. Psh. Empires were not built on justice and honor. They were built on fear and might. This, to her, made her the far superior divinity of war.
“I will have your blood on this day, Tiwaz. I will paint my flesh with it and dance on your corpse.” Enyo took the opportunity she saw suddenly to jab at him once with her spear, aiming for an open, tender spot on his chest.