How convenient. This is the perfect moment to make his escape—or it would be, at least, were Fish thinking of escape anymore and not outright flinging himself bodily at Deacon while he's distracted. It's bad enough that he's been sitting on his feelings for months now, living in a state of perpetual fear and anger that rivals anything he felt at home—on top of it all, now he's being attacked by someone who should be on his side. So, fuck it. He's had enough.

Fish may not have preternatural speed on his side, he may not even possess actual fangs, but his teeth are sharper than they look and the PSI of his jaw well surpasses that of any baseline human. It's nearly triple that, in fact. Taking a bite from him is comparable to being savaged by an angry dog. So...enjoy, buddy, whilst this supposedly easy target now tries his hardest to put his teeth someplace soft, spewing flecks of bilious black.