"What's that?" Karr called back as he shot an elbow up into the jaw of one of his opponents. "I couldn' hear ya over th' creekin' of yer bones!" He let out a gruff, rumbling chuckle which was promptly cut short by the seat of a bar stool connecting with his face. "GrrrrrgFUCK!" He snarled in pain, one fang coming loose for a moment, but within a few minutes the skin rather quickly knitted itself back up around the tooth. It was still enough to send Karr out for blood, unlike his father, he did not need to pull his punches.
With a reverberating battle cry, he broke out his claws and hacked away with fists, feet, elbows, claws and even teeth. By the time things began to calm, the younger feral was a bloody mess. Once side of his face had bruised dark purple and swollen, blood dripped from his claws and stained his clothing from where he had taken knife blades. They were slowly healing, but as they healed so much more slowly than Logan's, the older might get concerned.
"FUCK!" Karr roared again and spat blood onto the floor. He half hunched over to combat the pain and to try and catch his breath. One of the more ballsy opponents managed to drag himself to his feet and attempt one last swing at the weaker looking of the ferals. "UUUGH!' Karr growled in annoyance, staggering to one side to avoid his punch, then throwing up his own fist to break the guy's nose in a bloody fountain. "Stay down. Fucker." He grumbled and shifted back to prop himself up against the bar. "There any more beer?" he asked in a panting growl.