Everyone jolted in surprise at the sudden burst of violence. They could see a mighty bruise on one side of his face, and his glasses were askew, the frames twisted out of alignment from the force of the blow.
Darach then spat out blood. The cluster of red, even as an image pulled from memory, still seemed as vibrant as ever, aided by the red moon in the sky.
Alpha Burke raised an eyebrow at Alpha Thorton. "You were saying?"
"Shut up!" He yelled in a bluster, his face turning red with indignation at everyone catching him in a lie. "It was just in the heat of the moment! I have never laid a hand on my son before this!"
Then, Darach spoke.
'Father, I see you've upgraded your blows again.'
The audience hissed; there was no mistaking the meaning of his words. Alpha Thorton had struck his son more than once― from the resigned way Darach had reacted to the violence, it seemed to happen with depressing regularity.