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Dunnottar was a man of pride. It took him a lot to recognize he'd made a mistake. The effort required to acknowledge it and try to rectify it was damn near impossible. Change was difficult, and he didn't like doing it.

That moment, floating in space, fearing he'd float off forever—the near death experience—it was a bit fairytale-ish, but that moment had rocked him to his core. That terrifying moment where he'd reached for a man who, in a past life, had killed his own past life, in desperation to live. He hadn't even had time to consider what if he just sends me out to die? because Lanting had been helping him, before his brute of a boyfriend had separated them quite forcefully.

That had been one of the worst days of his life.

But he'd finally realized he was holding a grudge against an innocent for a past transgression that honestly didn't even affect him. Perhaps he, Shulang, would still have been Dunnottar, still lived his terrible life—the previous Dunnottar just may have lived a few more years if it wasn't for the previous Lanting. What difference did it make, a thousand years later?

These days, he was working on his temper. Feeling the rage and redirecting it. Trying not to feel so angry about small stuff. After all, if he could finally accept his death at the hands of a man he'd clearly considered friend, he could handle not finding his keys for an extra minute in the morning without blowing his top.

Today was definitely one of his off days.

"Not quite the threat you seem to think that is," he said, deceptively mild. "Make me walk away? Surely you would threaten to break my legs? To steal my starseed? 'Make me walk away' is so boring. Should I expect you to handcuff me and frogmarch me to... where, exactly? The Detention Center for Naughty Pages?"

He didn't smile, though the impulse was there. "As terribly Saturday morning cartoon-ish of you that threat is... Maybe I should take it seriously." He waved his stupid ******** wooden lollipop at the man, aware of how ridiculous he looked. "What do you plan on doing, then? Draining some poor drunk? Or are you just antagonizing Pages to make you feel big and important?"

Maybe if he said enough, help would arrive. He could handle himself fairly okay these days, but it couldn't hurt to stall. Once the fight began, though, all bets were off.

That was not a pleasant feeling. "You made it my business when you talked to me," he ground out, teeth clenched, heart racing. A hand was on his soul and it felt so filthy, putrid, like... like... he couldn't even put a name to it. Not even the horrors he'd endured as a child, because it felt so much worse than that, somehow.

"You must feel," he continued, almost gasping for breath as something inside him stirred—almost like his starseed was singing. "So tiny, in your life, for this to feel so good."

Was he glowing? He felt like he was glowing. Heat simmered under his skin, but it felt pleasant, like a warm summer's day. "I did nothing, and yet you threaten my life. You are nothing."

The heat burst, his starseed sang, and a moment latter, his clothes had changed. A strange jacket thing now sat on his shoulders, and, oddly, the world had shifted down—he was taller? His boots! They had heels now. His eyes drifted to the lollipop—now a candy cane.

Of ******** course the strange candy-land theme had stuck. He snorted a little bit, grinning down at Diaboleite's face. Now who's not walking away? he thought, but he didn't say it aloud, because that was the exact sort of thing he'd roll his eyes at in a movie. Way to telegraph your intentions to the bad guy and lose your moment of shock.

Instead, he simply twirled the cane down, hooked Diaboleite's ankle, and gave a vicious tug.

This Lieutenant—now beneath him, physically and in magical power—kicked out, and it wasn't like Dunnottar could've expected the man to know that he regularly went to the gym to train in regular workouts and in small fighting courses here and there, basics of different styles. He never could pick a single one to specialize in. Even with that proverb about fearing the man who practiced one kick a thousand times. He enjoyed knowing different ways to move his body.

He jumped up to avoid the kick and moved backward immediately upon landing.

"I don't quite know what my new limits are—shall we find out together, or will you walk away before I make you?"