C: Kick the hunter in the groin

There’s one swift means of disarming this man and you take your opportunity with enthusiasm. Your boot connects with his groin in such a fashion that you swear you hear something pop and he crumples with a wheeze and a pale face. To his credit he doesn’t drop his sword.

Though he does go flying into the fence around your parents home when your husband kicks him away from you. But he doesn’t stop there. Your husband has nearly doubled in size, you swear it. His clawed feet scrape eagerly across the ground as he hurries over to him, croaking low in his chest as his talons grasp at his chest.

One sickening pop and another pained wheeze from the hunter informs you of your husband’s intentions. Another dead. So soon. This time it is different but you can see how easily your cousin would be rent in two as your husband’s fury builds, the wings on his back unfurling again and flapping with quick, feverish beats. What is he doing?