A throaty, humorless laugh emerges, followed by a wet cough and blood spat on the ground.

"How am I meant to snap the tip off," Teren remarks, almost amusedly-- have you seen that fucking thing-- and wiggles into a better position before beckoning Vlast to lower his head. His horn is likely too thick around to make a difference, but at least they'll be able to say they've both tried it.