Sometimes, Ivar wondered if his anger was ever going to lessen. At times like this, it seemed to be the only emotion he could feel. Fury, blazing hot, both for the creatures that had tried to harm Ronan and some left over for the two idiotic men in front of him. Well, fuck both of them. Next time, Ivar just wouldn't get involved. Let's see how well they took care of such a problem on their own, trying to take care of monsters with their fists and a single gun.

He let them go, leaving him behind in the scene of the carnage. Ivar tore a strip off his shirt, tying it around his right shoulder to put some pressure on the wound. The creature's claws had sunk deep into it in an attempt to get him to drop his axe. Though he hadn't felt it at the time, Ivar's wounds were starting to catch up to him. Ronan wasn't going to be the only one spending time in the hospital. That is providing that someone could convince the proud and angry Viking warrior to even spend time in the institution.