The buffalo man did not move, still grasping the peryton by the antlers as he made a bid to struggle free. The bar had fallen totally silent, and a hundred eyes turned on Hawk, who had flung the first glass from the set on the windowsill and had another one clenched in a now slightly trembling hand. His feathers stood on end and his teeth were gritted, but he already looked as though he was ever so slightly thinking the better of what he'd just done.

"You better let go," he said tightly. The buffalo man, bits of glass still hanging onto the thick fur around his neck and face, raised his head and snorted.

The bar doors crashed open, one of them snapping straight off its hinges, as Hawk was thrown bodily through them--he cleared the porch before landing in the thick grass. He'd barely rolled over onto his hands and knees, retching, when there were thunderous footsteps and the buffalo man was upon him, catching him so hard in the stomach with one knee that Hawk's feet left the ground.

Monsters were now flooding outside after them, into a hazy night made pink by the bar sign overhead. Teige and Parker, bewildered and hanging onto each other, were ushered out with the crowd--they cheered for the coming fight, encircling Hawk and the buffalo man. Hawk had staggered back to his feet, using his wings to counter-balance himself, arms wrapped around his stomach.

"God almighty," Teige muttered frantically, seeing the excited crowd of onlookers, and how small Hawk looked, doubled over in the buffalo man's shadow. Parker cast an eye back at the bar.

"Ooh, boy."