Blood. Blood touches his mouth and tongue, earning a rumble of delight as he runs the raspy surface over his lips. The scream. The pain. All of it is music to his fuzzy little ears. When Lily fails to go down, the leopard has a moment where his ears cup forward, interest peaked fully. When he chuckles, and he does chuckle, the sound is a low and husky version of itself.

"Not by far," he rumbles in something between a growl and a hiss. There were many ways to kill a Wereleopard... perhaps a bit tougher than the daytime version of the animal, but still the same ultimately; save for his healing rate and capacity to take injury. He gathers to plunge at the posturing girl, tail slashing eagerly behind him, when another sound catches his attention fully.

He'd run with a pack of werewolves before. Wolves didn't alarm him and he'd fought his fair share while settling into his own position of dominance among them. On an average day, he was low in their pack, but on full moons they did their best to avoid him; or herd him off into the distance with their combined efforts.

He sneer-snarls at the wolf, lips pulling back as he bares his fangs and promptly ignores Lily as Ben moves between he and she. Heavy claws scratch at the boats' floor, blue-green eyes narrowed without a trace of human behind them.

"My kill," he hisses, swiping at the air between them with one heavy foot. "Stand aside." It wasn't a question, but an order. He had scored a hit and was due his right to try to kill Lily... Ah, the twisted way the feral mind worked. He grins, lips pulling back to flash fangs again. "you should have played dead where I left you."

He begins to slowly stalk forward, eyes on the pair and motions slow, but calculated.