Ah, that bit of impact is satisfying enough. He can see the twirl happening, and he does see it, but all he can really do within the mere seconds that it's happening is brace for impact. He clenches his teeth hard, screwing his eyes shut as the lance impacts with the side of his face, throwing his head off to the side and releasing a pained growl.

"Cute little twirl, motherfucker!" He snaps, swinging his club out wildly. "The Cavalreaper training include motherfucking dancing as motherfucking well?"

Not only does he swing, but his free hand grasps out into the air for him as well, using those sharp claws he rarely cuts or files down to hook into a leg or arm.