Not that fucking war, this fucking war. My fucking war.

[ One arm is useless, the other is successfully grappled, and his knife is stuck in the vampire. He really should have brought the silver one, but he wasn't really intending to live long enough to need any of this. ]

Not hungry? [ He sneers, despite literally nothing here going to plan. Not to either the 'kill the vampire' plan or the 'get killed by the vampire' plan. ] I don't think you can stop me without obliging, you pompous bloodsucker.