[She smiles, just a little, and it's a feral look. Like a predator baring her teeth, as much as it's a woman looking forward to a fuck.
She nods her head over to the man running the fight, and once she gets the signal from him, she moves in a blur, one arm coming like a bar to his chest in a clothesline that threatens to topple him.
The fight, or what she's aiming for, is something clean; nothing that would leave a taste of tease or the kind of fight that would make anyone think that he was weak for losing. She moves with that certainty, that strength. Every move is brutal, but there's no pretty artistry to it.]
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She nods her head over to the man running the fight, and once she gets the signal from him, she moves in a blur, one arm coming like a bar to his chest in a clothesline that threatens to topple him.
The fight, or what she's aiming for, is something clean; nothing that would leave a taste of tease or the kind of fight that would make anyone think that he was weak for losing. She moves with that certainty, that strength. Every move is brutal, but there's no pretty artistry to it.]