[He's in the air without much trouble, but his teeth are bloody, and for that he is satisfied. Jack opens his wings to slow his landing a bit, sliding back in an attempt to invite her closer again. He doesn't go for his sword yet, knowing that she'll simply try and disarm him again, and the energy to perform that maneuver again just isn't there.
And suddenly, Noir begins to laugh. A low, gruff, cruel sort of noise that echoes in ways it shouldn't through the sector -- a sound bound to turn a few heads and ignite some sick fires. But Jack is too busy licking the flecks of blood from his snout to care.
The blow wasn't fatal -- a pity, but this wasn't so bad. Maybe Snowman was onto something.]