Julian reaches for her companion, intending to snap his neck and toss him aside. Just then, the knife finds its mark, burying itself in Julian's thigh almost to the hilt. Julian howls, clutching his leg and crumpling to the ground. The couple gasp and turn around, but in the darkness, they cannot see the knife or the blood. They merely see a young man on his knees, moaning and clutching at the grass.
"Bloody drunks," the boy mutters, grabbing his girlfriend's hand. "Come on, Mfanwy. Let's get out of here."
Julian can only curse, watching helplessly as his quarry makes her escape. He grasps the hilt of the knife, his hands slick with blood. With difficulty, he manages to pull it out, screaming as the steel grates against bone. He lies there for a moment, panting, his hair hanging in his face. Then he growls, eyes flashing as he searches the darkness for the one who hurt him.