The concentrated look cracks like a facade with an unexpected laugh, "I am either tempted by Rage or Despair. One leads to giving up, the other to fighting against what is against me. The path between the two demons is narrow. I am not angry with you, nor will I be rolling over and showing my belly."

The now weight-free graceful martial form ceases in a spine popping stretch and Ferox bends backwards, touching the ground behind him. Feet kick up over his head to landing. Upright, the dagger slips back into it's sheath on his thigh. Without movement or activity he visibly begins to tighten back up, the need to control himself re-extending itself over his expressions and the brief ease which he carried himself.