Watching the wound heal so quickly made the White Wolf realize just how difficult this was going to be, it was surreal, but he had dealt with similar things. Werewolves were known for healing, he would deal with this in the same way.
The next move caught him off guard, he didn’t have time to avoid the strike, and the sheer strength surprise him as he was knocked backwards. Springing upwards a few second afterwards, ignoring the immense pain from the hit, he drank some swallow, which acted as an anesthesia for him. Even if he was near death, he wouldn’t feel it as he tossed the vial away.
“That all you got?” He called, casting igni to set the trunk alight, the flames dancing in the reflection of his cold stare, wanting to eliminate the advantages.