Once drained, Greg pulled away, blood still dribbling down because manners be damned. If he was a definitely going to hell sort of monster, it really didn't matter if he had the etiquette to please. His attention flickered momentarily to Grigore as he came in, mentally deciding what sort of threat he now posed. It was much higher considering Greg's current state, which really just put him exactly where he wished to be: teetering at the point of a knife.
However, he still did have Tweedle Dumber to properly take care of. Without any proper tools his hands and newly gifted strength would have to do. Although even with the additional power ripping off someone's head was never any easy taste. It was nothing like popping off dandelion heads. No, it was far more gratifying beheading someone with nothing more than his hands. It was positively delightful. It could have even been a nice moment had he not felt the need to throw the head at Grigore.
"I don't exactly care," he said. Greg pushed himself back onto his fight. "In fact I don't want to talk at all. Talk is cheap. You want to know someone you trade blows." He spread his arms, welcoming whatever attack that could follow. Really, he only found it amusing because Greg say the situation as temporary. This was his limbo, not the rest of his existence, it was all just a brief intermission where he was more monster than man.