Karr rubbed his palms over the front of his jeans, trying to make it a noisy effort in order to to hide his heavier breathing. His head was half down as he watched his own actions when he was suddenly flung off balance and to the ground. He reacted instantly--and rather violently. His claws were out, lean body flailing against that powerful hand, lips peeled back to show his teeth as he fought to free himself. While it was an animated little display, it was also rather pathetic. He literally was flailing indiscriminately, anyone close enough to get nicked by his claws would receive a sharp burst of anger and indignation.
If Karr heard James' words, he made no sign of it. The minute he was released, he sprang to his feet, striking a low, braced pose, claws held at ready as dark, enraged eyes shot from James to Logan and back again. Dirt clung to one side of his damp face as he huffed in air through his nostrils, taking in the scents of both men, glaring hateful daggers at both... and at Logan more than James, one might note.
He shook his head heard, like a cat attempting to shake off some injustice, and spat again, trying to get the dirt out of his mouth as he tried to harness his indignation long enough to speak. "Don't fuckin' touch me! I'll rip yer fuckin' head off!" He roared the words with as much bite as he could manage, but anyone who knew his kind would find it humorous. It was clearly the kind of puffed up insults that school yard kids gave each other, hollow, all bark and no real bite, though one had to wonder if Karr might try to put some bite into his growls if he was pushed too far. He at least did not try to physically attack either out of rage, one had to give him credit for that.