Focused on his own achievement, stalking and waiting, he was taken completly by surprise as Kaarnishia jolted out of the water, but was quick enough to stop her claws from digging into his scales, and locked talons with her.
He struggled and twisted in mid-air with her, their franctic wing flaps scattering away the mist, the water fleeting off the Silver Dragoness' scales by the sudden movements. He did a barrel roll to a side, hoping that the centripical force would make her break off. But her grip was strong, fueled by an energy he felt exuding from her being that he could feel. Instead, he lost his control over the roll as the center of rotation moving to where he was trying to break away from her, and the two began spinning out of control.
In a moment of rage, fueled by the loss of control and the unexpected attack, the male roared, turning his gaze to the Dragoness' injury, and folded one wing, sinking his wing's talons into it and scraping into it. In an almost instinctive reaction, he tried to wrap his tail around her body and go for her throat, determined to kill her. But before his drive carried on any further he realised that he had almost gone into a berserk state, like his aggressive kind was known to.
In a reaction of fright to his own being, he developed the strength to break away from her, backing up a few meters to see what her reaction would be whilst trying to shake away the fury within. He then quickly came back to his senses, ready to continue the battle, but a sense of sorrow grept him once again, seeing the blood on his right wing's claws everytime their flapping brought them within his visual range.
"I mustn't let such feelings take over me again. Ever.", he said to himself, emptily, knowing how his own determination had failed him before, and how weak his control over such reactions was. A Red Dragon would have probably tried to kill her and take control over the group, ruling over them with fear. He despised himself for that which he was holding back. They were the spawned darkness within his kind, to which he had never succumbed, the darkness which he had always tried to restrain.
Memories of moments when he had given into it haunted him. They also gave him the strength to stop.