Tom's head snapped around, ignoring the pain in his head. Somewhere, someone was fighting, and they had not been polite enough to send him an invitation.
Well, he could remedy that. He thrust his hipflask, still undrunk from, back into his coat, and dropped into a fullpace sprint.
He arrived at the fight just as Arkady starts indulging in his munchies. Tom knows Omega Red remarkably well, and he's got more then a few suspicions as to what the cut price Dracula-Wannabe's doing. So without a second thought, he flings himself forward, his arms and forehead covering themselves in bark.
"Try a bite of this, you son of a bitch!" he snarls, swinging for a punch.
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