Time to stop fucking around. He takes its head off with another couple of swings and then whirls before it falls, burying the blade in the other one's neck.

It stumbles back, still snarling - though a large part of its head is a pulpy mess and it's clearly nowhere near as mobile as it was - and two more hard chops does the job.

He stands there, panting, watching as it turns to dust, before he looks up at Preston again. "You okay?"