Almost a bit offended by his friend leaping over his shoulders, he can only exclaim "HEY!" loudly as he hops over his shoulders, stumbling back a bit from the force of a rather heavy animal using him as a trampoline. He is almost completely knocked over, but he manages to stay standing, directing his attention back to the scene at hand. Almost immediately as he looks back, he sees his friend with a lamppost aimed directly for what appears to be his jaw. Well shit. His grip on his hilt gets more firm as he finally gets a good idea of what's going on, running forward stupidly, and presumably without a plan. He seriously wasn't a very bright man.

His mind racing, he thinks deeply as to where he'll actually end up running, with a massive bear, and a horrible smelly evil thing in front of him. His arms swing a little bit as he unfortunately has to use his friend as a distraction, diving past him, and to the left of Fury (whether or not this was because of his injury is a mystery) letting out a completely necessary battle cry. This was a prime opportunity to land an attack on the monster, as he holds up his hilt, the axe flickering back once more and glowing a dangerous looking radiating aura that was probably giving Drag three separate types of cancer. 

Launching himself into the heat of the battle, and swinging as gracefully as a woodsman who was cutting the finest of mahogany, he realizes how out of shape he is, as waving your arms around this much would tire out just about anyone that hasn't had a good fight in a year or so. He decides swinging wouldn't be very effective anyway, and adjusts his grip onto the axe, instead swinging the entire force of the axe forward against Fury's back, almost being launched back simply by he is deep fear for this smelly man. He was afraid of anyone that smelled that badly, no matter who they were!