[It's a good thing that the highblood has a hard time feeling pity, because this is a truly pitiful sight. Instead, he feels disgust, and his lips peel back into a sneer. There's...very little the Summoner can do in his current state that would help change the highblood's mind, but yeah, trying to fight now would've come off a little desperate.

Sure, the highblood didn't have the highest standards if he hated someone enough, so even a couple of mistakes here and there wouldn't have gotten such a severe reaction from him. But do anything that would normally stir feelings bordering on pity? He just couldn't handle that sort of behavior, especially from his kismesis.

He lingers just for a moment, his expression only hardening. That slack-jawed, mid-sentence look is...not a good look on the rebel. It's just sad, and he can't believe himself. He can't believe he even considered accepting this lowblood trash as a kismesis. There had been such potential, too. It was so perfect, that he had been almost willing to look over the fact that they were practically on the opposite sides of the spectrum. What a waste.]

I all motherfucking misjudged you, motherfucker. Just lie the fuck back down on the ground where you all belong. [He grinds his teeth, obviously a bit torn, but the hesitation is barely noticeable as he turns to leave.]