Choose

"You don't learn, do you?"

I said, voice low and amused, watching the flicker of indecision cross the shaman's face. He raised his staff halfway, mana swirling at the tip—then hesitated, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

He wasn't stupid. 

He knew by now that any attack he hurled would only end up as one of the many means I could use to slaughter his own men, so he held back.

I saw the frustration building behind his eyes. 

But while he held back, uncertain, one of his underlings wasn't so cautious.

The hasty bastard lunged at me, screaming, so I sidestepped with a swing, severing its limbs, and slit its throat before it could even scream.

One of the direwolves then charged, and I braced to meet it, but danger sense rang, and I spotted an arrow flying towards me, but strangely, it was slow and weak enough to catch.