That was when Cyrus got up.
Cyrus looked beaten, and he looked angry. Really really angry. The man's eyes were glistening with wrath, and his nostrils were flared, angry hisses escaping. He stared hard at Xander and Falcon imagined his blood boiling, seething at the man who had mutilated his thumb and put all the blame on him.
Falcon could see Cyrus's hand itching as if he couldn't wait to wrap them around Xander's throat. The beaten man dragged himself towards where Xander's sword was lying and wrapped his hands around the hilt greedily. Something like cold rage flashed in his hostile eyes.
Xander, too lost in the ring's miracle, heard nothing.
