He slams the axe down onto the dummy, and rents the metal in two, a pulse of red energy flowing through it, the mark on his shoulder glowing brightly. He's panting and sweating, muscles shaking.
Bella claps at this, and his head whips up, green eyes tinged with scarlet. "What do you want?" He demands, his energy fueled, his voice not his own, some of a woman's, a stong, powerful woman's, edging it.