Oh how she liked that throaty growl. He was angry, he was cosmetically injured -like herself, and he was a gloriously worthy opponent. Enyo would certainly be speaking to Ares about this in great detail later. Her brother would need to know what sort of adversary they found in this man. This... god of Sumer. Perhaps Ares had met Nergal in battle before, shame she hadn't been present if he had. She would have loved to fight alongside him and show them how strong the Greeks were.
But then there was that part about having to share the glory of the fight with Ares, if that was the case. And selfishly Enyo didn't want to share this battle with her brother. This was hers. She would defeat the Sumerian and claim all the greatness that came with it for herself.
There was a moment where she considered tossing her blade aside and lunging at him bare-handed. It would be wondrous to dig her fingers into his flesh, letting her nails pierce his skin and tear at it, drawing blood in a far more primal manner. Yes, that was a grand idea. However, it was foolish and even she knew that. Even in her blood-lust she knew that it would mean the end of their battle.
It had only begun.
“The Beast bleeds,” she said with a rather perversely pleased smile. “And the undefeated can be brought down. One of us will be on our knees before this is over,” she assured. Then there was the silent implication that came with a raised brow that said so much more. If not on knees, then on the ground somehow... preferably dead. Preferably him.
Watching him carefully, she waited for his next attack.