There's the smell of burning wood as the charm on his left wrist takes the hit, the twine holding it on beginning to fray. The teeth still dig into his skin, but they don't break it, though the attack forces him to stumble back- it caught him off-guard. He snarls, almost wolf-like himself, and brings the butt of his spear down, slamming it between her shoulderblades as the ravens soar in to harry her again.