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Mac was not in a good mood today, which wasn't entire surprising as his mood had been sliding further and further since the day he eavesdropped on his ghoulfriend and the boil he recently learned was his cousin. He had a lot of things to think about, and everything twisted right back to this isn't fair. So he resorted to the only thing he knew, the only way he could vent without really saying an entire word; sparring.

He'd recently matched against Charlie, so for now that was out. He couldn't ask Mot or Lizzy, as they were the problem. While he would have loved to wail on Shun, it seemed the other Reaper was gone, which was a pity. The others were too far away; he had nobody he could ask. Which meant...whelp, he'd just have to grab a stranger. So that's what he did, he stopped the first scareling he came across, and demanded asked for a spar. If asked for a reason? He wouldn't really give one, other than an annoyed 'Yes or No'.

Turns out, it was yes.

"Yes." He said simply. The other Reaper had already said yes, even though Mac was fairly sure his FEAR levels proved he was at a Year 2 level otherwise. "One last chance to get out of it." He grumped, at least giving him that much of a chance to back off.

Though, he did say this as he summoned his weapon - the large, twisted white birch staff - and was in the process of lashing out anyway.

"Appreciated." He grumbled out. It was good that a random stranger would pick up on his rage (though truth be old, he did imagine he was reaching baby Wrath Demon levels), and even better that he was giving him the opportunity to vent.

"Mac." He introduced himself, taking a quick step forward to plunge the end of his staff into the ground to use it as leverage, pushing off the ground and launching a fair amount of his body weight against the smaller bodied Reaper. There was a rather satisfying feeling when he felt his foot connect, but he didn't stop to see where he hit, as he was a little busy making sure he landed properly, without hurting himself in the process. "---And you?"

"Like the bird?" He questioned, curiousity flashing into his otherwise irritated looking black eyes. Seeing the blunt end of the scythe coming at him, Mac tried to push it away; at the last moment he changed his mind, instead wrapping his hand around the shaft after it glanced his arm.

"Oh, you know, this and that." Mac drawled sarcastically, before leaning back and putting all of his weight into pulling on it to hopefully throw the boil closer to him; then, without a second thought, he brought his own head down hard onto Sparrow's.

Mac wanted to attack back, really he did. He was all geared up for it, too. But as he took a step to advance on poor Sparrow, his head realized something important. Something like Oh hey that jackin' hurt! For a moment the larger Reaper was disoriented, releasing the scythe to grab his head. The moment was mostly overcome when he felt the kick to his stomach, making him stumble back a pace or two, still holding his head.

"Ugh, yes, sorry." He grunted, really regretting the whole headbutt thing. They were battling, sure, but that really did hurt! Clearing his throat, he blinking his black eyes rapidly, clearing the fuzzies from his mind. "Err, I'm sure you hear that a lot - Like the bird - but I like birds. Have a whippoorwill myself." Chattering to give himself time to recover from his stupidity, good job Mac.

He didn't respond that time.

Conflicted indeed, but getting back to business; he forced demanded a battle out of the Reaper, and his head was thankfully clearing. Shaking his head for a moment, he tightened his grip on his staff, moving to close the distance and send the weapon down more like a club.

Not that Sparrow knew it, but Mac had no real intention of beating him to a pulp. He just wanted to beat him enough to vent, and he somehow doubted it would lead to all out obliteration. But who knew, things could always happen. Mac's staff may had gotten smacked away at first, but it created a fairly nice momentum he was able to swing back for a round two.

Then, finally, Mac spoke.

"Do you have a ghoulfriend, Kid?" A slight pause. "Or Boilfriend, I guess?"

"Is she as frustratingly innocent as mine is?" He demanded, his voice edging. "A jackin' good, sweet, honest ghoul?" Ah-hah, apparently this was a decent hint as to what his irritation was about. Even though Sparrow wasn't fighting back anymore, Mac wasn't giving up...but it seemed he had enough of using his staff. The white birch weapon was dismissed, and in it's place came Mac's fist, more than happy to try for an old fashioned beat down.