Unknown Territory (Open)

[Fox]

Silently, the figure crouched. It didn't move, not even a twitch. It was not alone. It knew it. And it waited.

It did not have to wait long. Within a minute, the other creature emerged. Large, curved claws tapped against the cold stone. It's massive paws made little sound with each footfall, as quiet as a beast a fourth it's size. Saliva dripped from it's jaw, tongue sliding over yellowed fangs. Two murderous eyes gazed at the female. The beast growled, softly at first, a warning.

The female's gaze didn't flinch from the creature's. She was not afraid.

It's hackles rose, bristled black fur standing on end, ears folded back angrily. It was no longer growling. It was rumbling. The sound was deep, earthy, resonating deep in the beast's chest. It's lip curled, baring the still-bloody fangs at it's foe. If the female would not back down, then he would simply rip out her throat and feast on her blood. He'd not pass up a free meal.

She did not move.

He leapt.

The girl's gaze remained fixed, but for the last moment. Then, one yellow eye snapped up to fix upon the beast almost upon her. One hand came up, bloody from the broken glass it had been clutching so tightly. It severed the beast's trachea without difficulty. And the female's face still remaine still, as if etched of stone. Covered in the dark liquid, she let out the breath she'd been holding. With the intake that followed, a scent filled her nostrils, a rich, deep, animalistic sort of scent. Fitting.

With another exhale of breath, she shoved the glass back into her worn leather belt. It was one of the few things she owned from her old life, that belt. Her other clothing, consisting of jeans, which had been stained to blackness by the streets and grime, and simple tank top, military issue, olive green. At her throat hung the silver crucifix, a sentimental item to the female, though she could hardly recall why. Her feet were bare, revealing the stunted digits on each. Two toes, one on each foot, they were missing their top half. How clean or neat the wound was simply could not be told, her feet were so covered in dirt and blood.

But no one noticed any of those things first. Not with the face before them. It was impossible to drag one's gaze away from the girl's eyes. Or rather, eye, as she had only the one. The other was still there, yes, but the eyelid covered it. Held in place by crude, black stitching.

And now that sole eye swept the area, cautious. The girl had heard something. Something big. Something.... Human. It was too late, too late to hide. She had strayed into a residential area, and had made too much noise to remain unnoticed. Running was not an option. So, the girl sat. Sat and waited to see who was coming.

[Mariska]

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It had been months since Mariska had traded in her barefoot ideal for a pair of clunky combat boots, though she would admit they did a superb job of blocking out the debris she so frequently found herself wading through. Resting casually on her left shoulder was the blue and silver metal baseball bat she had brought along with her when Tai took her from her makeshift shelter of rubble and over into the Crows territory. A dark red mane swirled and waved around her face, the tips of it touching just below her shoulder blades. Unkempt bangs made ill attempts at hiding the piercing yellow eyes beneath them, and there was no hint of emotion on her face.

Indigo had not taken his usual place in the pocket of her grey cargo pants, deciding instead to stay back in her room where it was comfortable and safe. He was probably right, after all. She wandered aimlessly through the neighborhood, picking through whatever ruins seemed to interest her. Any supplies she found would be thrown into the worn backpack slung across her right shoulder.

A low, rolling grown emanated from some nearby alleyway and the girl scrambled to hide somewhere until she could come up with a better action plan. What could even be making that noise? Dog? Machine? Some combination of the two? Either way the sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she jumped behind a pile of debris, bracing herself against the wall. What quickly followed was the clatter of a large body hitting the floor. She listened in silence for a few moments before climbing out from behind the ruins, accidentally knocking over a few things in the process.

Mariska rounded the corner carefully, and her baseball bat was poised and ready to be swung at anything that made a move first. Whatever it was, it was dead. Its blood was pooling on the pavement, filling in the tiny depressions in the asphalt and gathering the dirt and dust that clung to demolition sites. The blood had also found its way onto a girl who was sitting in front of her. Mariska gave the girl a disinterested and judging once over, inwardly trying to figure out if she had brought down whatever this beast was on her own. She again looked down at the creature before finally making eye contact with the girl.

"Hm."

[Fox]

The thing made a few clumsy noises scrabbling through some of the debris. Definitely human.

Good thing, too. Another wild dog would just be annoying.

Fox's one good eye fixed on the approaching figure, curious. Already, her mind was running through the knowledge she held about the being and the situation. Whirring like a supercomputer, weighing the odds.

Thin body structure. No male scent. Walked like a female, lightly but steadily. Short, 5'-4", 5'-5", about Fox's standing height. Long hair, girlish style and cut. A female, then. The figure came closer into the light, confirming it. Fox lowered her hackles then. Slight movement, but noticeable. Made her look more approachable. This wasn't a time to start another fight. The eye flicked over to the long object in the girl's grip. Must be metal, gleamed even from a distance away, like metal did. A pole? No. Too big at the end. Had a grip, too, where there was no gleam. Rounded disk at the bottom. She knew that shape. A bat. Hrmph. Definitely not the time to start another fight. Not one she'd win, Fox thought, not without getting hurt.

Couldn't afford that, not if she was right, not if more dogs were in the area. Wasn't ready to die yet, not before killing the bastard.

She looked back to the face. Pretty, she was, pretty enough. Had steel in her though. Hard eyes, yellow like hers. Interesting. No, hers was hazel now, she'd let it slip back. She could feel it, the softening in them both. Hrmph. Pretty hair on the girl. Reddish-brown, the sort that had a special name.... Auburn, that was it. Course, her face was too cold, eyes too harsh to look beautiful. Just pretty. Oh well. Not like Fox was looking for a mate, anyways.

Not a twitch from the raised bat, Fox was just out of range. The bloody glass wasn't too visible in her belt, not until she shifted on her haunches, and light flashed off it for a moment. Resting on the balls of her feet, forearms lax on knees, eye lazily observing the girl, presenting no challenge. Nothing in her attitude portrayed a challenge. She didn't want a fight. She was curious, though, tilting her head to the right ever so slightly, showing interest. Even though she didn't speak, her now-hazel eye showed intelligence. One arm came out, palm up, indicating to the corpse and the girl. An offering, did the stranger want the dead beast?

But all the girl said was "Hm."

[Mariska]

The end of the baseball bat prodded at the cooling corpse of the beast, allowing the air that was still trapped in its body to be released in a slow, defeated sigh. It was much too big to drag back home with her, and even if she could do it reasonably, not a whole ton of it was appetizing to the girl. The size of the dog unsettled Mariska, and she wondered if there were more like it lurking around the neighborhood. Her glance returned to the crouching female, looking her over and examining her postures. Could she trust that this wouldn't end in a fight? She had better things to do tonight, and though she didn't feel like starting anything with the girl, the wear and dents in her baseball bat said she wasn't afraid to if need be.

Mariska bent at the waist, so that her face was level with the other girl's and only about a foot away. Exposed arms used the butt of the baseball bat as a crutch just in front of her body. The scuffed boot on her right foot lifted and tapped on the grimy asphalt contemplatively as she tried to figure out her next move. She most definitely didn't trust this new person by them self. The woman had no intention of leaving the alleyway, beast, and girl behind only to expose her back to the wills of a clearly violent stranger, and the thought of going out alone with the potential for more wild dogs was enough to send her home.

She made her choice. Standing back upright she would make a move to leave the alley, turning back to look at the other woman. "Come on, then." She would beckon to her using the bat as an extension of her arm before waiting for Fox to cross in front of her and walk ahead. The blue and silver weapon rested once more on her shoulder, though Mariska kept her eyes planted on the person in front of her, ready to swing the bat at any sign of ill intent.

[Fox]

Fox watched the girl lazily, zoning out for a few moments while the other was prodding her kill with a bat. People were wierd, she decided. Very wierd. Amusing, though. Lost in her thought pattern, she blinked, only to find the girl's face less than a foot from her own.

It was to Fox's credit that she didn't jump a mile. Normally, she would. She was startled. But stillness was better. Stillness helped her now. Plus, stillness meant no bat to the head. That was a bonus, without a doubt. So. Stillness it was. She decided to meet the girl's look evenly with her one good eye. That would do, she told herself idly.

On the other hand, Fox often forgot the effect her unusable eye had on people. Far away, it was bad enough, but up close? It was clear it had been sewn shut, by someone with no skill or no intent to heal. It wasn't a medical or surgical stitching, done by a proper doctor. It was clear enough that the red, still somewhat festered tissue around the black stitching thread was not ever cared for properly. In fact, the whole thing just reeked of ill will and torture.

Then, the girl stood again. Beckoning Fox with the bat, she indicated that she wanted her to go before her. That didn't benefit Fox, not in her opinion. It was stupid. Still. She didn't have a bat, so she couldn't really do much. The glass in her belt was pointless. Plus? She needed a place to stay that night.

She rose to her feet slowly, before shoving her hands in her pockets and ambling out in front of Mariska. When she was standing before the girl, she turned her head ever so slightly, to gaze back at her new companion, expression simply asking: "Where to?" It would be easier to communicate if she'd talk, that was true.

But Fox wasn't going to do that.

[Mariska]

Exiting the side street, the girl's yellow eyes would scan the neighborhood. She was satisfied to see that only she and the girl beside her graced the complex with movement and fidgeting shadows. The night was young, and while the new person would definitely slow her down, the second body would not stop her quest for the night. Raising her bat up, she pointed down the street, continuing along the route she had initially been taking when she heard the commotion.

They would journey up the road, stopping frequently to pick through garbage and rubble, and tossing anything of interest into the backpack Mariska carried. Not for a moment did her eye stray from the other woman. The vibes that came off her unsettled her, and with each passing minute she found herself becoming more and more uncomfortable. It must have been the eye. Yes, that was it, she was sure. The crude stitching and angry skin around the punctures reeked of apathy (and possibly infection), and each time the yellow eyes found themselves staring at it, the more she wanted to take action and find out what was inside.

At any sudden movements by Fox, Mariska would have her bat ready. And even if there were no sudden movements, the weapon would stay in a permanent state of defense. If Fox were to slow down or attempt to trail behind Mariska, the girl would attempt to reach the bat forward and lightly prod at the other's back in stern encouragement to continue.

[Fox]

Fox didn't make much of a fuss. She ambled along lazily, picking up a few things that interested her.... Most of them were glass. The ones that weren't were stones or other odd objects. Fox put them all in a smallish drawstring bag that she had taken from her pocket, unfolding the small square of fabric to reveal a much larger bag than one would have thought. The one-eyed girl would stop every now and then to stoop over and pick something up, despite the twinge of the bat that occured every time she did. Fox made sure she didn't pose a threat to the girl. Even going as far as to show her some of the things she was putting in the little container. At one place, she stopped for a good five to ten minutes, picking through a pile of colored glass, broken apart by some brute force.



Something almost akin to a smile came to her face at this scattered mosaic. In one hand, the right, between thumb and forefinger, she rubbed a worn blue shard, feeling the smooth texture with a sort of reverance and peace. Then, as suddenly as the moment had begun, it was over. Fox put the shard in her bag and moved on.

Then, suddenly, without warning, Fox stopped in her tracks. It was so sudden, so unwarned, the girl behind her may have even run into Fox's back. Not that Fox noticed. Her gaze was fixed on something just beyond, faint in the gloom. It wasn't much to look at, a short iron fence with old-fashioned pointed tips. Torn and broken open by the turmoil of late. There were holes in the barrier big enough to let people slip in with ease. The whole thing was twisted. Ragged. A cemetery fence. Just one of the many small burial plots scattered throughout the city. It wouldn't mean much to anyone else.

But to Fox, this was a place she hadn't been to in almost 10 years.

Fox's steps were slow now. Almost trance-like. The girl's fett found purchase on the rough ground without any difficulty, despite the way the two had been picking carefully through the terrain before. Her eye didn't falter from the fence before her. As she reached it, she put one hand out, gripping a cold post of iron as she pulled herself through one of the many holes in the old thing, stepping into the cemetary with that trance-like expression still fixed on her face.

Then, she stopped, not two feet away from a simple stone cross among the weeds. Barely visible, etched into the stone, five simple words.

Sherry Mar
Daughter
Mother
Mine

Fox took the piece of glass she had held so delicately in her fingers once again. It was a soft shard of blue, and had reminded her of her mother's eyes.

The girl left it at the foot of the grave.

Fox returned to her companion. She said nothing. Indicated nothing. Merely kept moving, resuming their regular pace. It was as if the incident had never happened. But Fox still had a single tear track tracing down her dusty face. Not from her right eye.

From the closed left.

[Mariska]

Mariska waited impatiently at every unauthorized stop the other girl made, crossing her arms in frustration and occasionally would thrust the end of the bat forward directed at the middle section of Fox's back. The growing collection of glass within the girl's possession made her uneasy, and she found it hard to ignore even when she made discovery of the things she was looking for. A few articles of clothing, a can of food, and smashed technology that she hadn't the foggiest idea what the original function of it was made the trip into her bag, all the while Fox disobediently continued to kneel down to rummage through piles of glass.

Not paying attention, Mariska didn't notice that the girl in front of her had stopped, and she kept walking straight into her back. Startled and caught off her guard, she would grip one end of the bat in each hand and push forward into fox with the horizontal mid section. Flustered, she back peddled slightly, trying to figure out why the other had stopped, looking around quickly in case another dog was near. After determining that the only threat to her safety was the dazed girl plowing through the rubble in the direction of the nearby cemetery. Mariska shouted after her, angry that once again the course had been disturbed. When her words went unnoticed, she stormed up to the girl who was now dropping a piece of glass at a grave site.

Lightly, as a warning and as an incentive for Fox to follow orders, Mariska would bring the bat down onto the other girl's shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to hinder their travels further. If the hit was successful, she would then notice the tear creeping down Fox's face. Uncomfortable with this display, the yellow eyes would avert themselves, shifting to the lawn and surrounding tombstones. "Oh, come on, I barely touched you." she would mutter, as if she were justifying her actions for a fight among grade schoolers.

If the hit were unsuccessful, she would scoff in frustration and only become more agitated with the situation.

[Fox]

Fox rolled her one good eye at the girl's words, making a sound that was almost akin to a hiss. Still, the almost-childlike discomfort expressed in the girl's words and tone made Fox chuckle a little. Wiping the tear away, she stood again, getting back to the path they were previously on. Then, once again, Fox stopped.

But this time, it wasn't for anything irrelevant.

Cocking her head, Fox fell back into a crouch, both eyes now closed. She tilted her head one degree more, getting the scarred ear at the perfect angle. Ah, yes, that was it. She took in the scent of the air, careful at first, but then more determined, analyzing all the parts of the scent, labeling and identifying them in her mind. Then, she nodded, and turned to the other girl, hackles slightly raised. One hand pointed, just off to the right of where they were headed. The hand came back, and Fox raised two fingers, then drew the large bloodied piece of glass from her belt. Gripping it steadily in her right palm, she used her left hand to remove the olive green tank from her torso, tying the shirt in a knot around her belt.

Fox cut a small wound into her chest, making sure not to tear any muscles or hit anything too precious. Turning to face her companion-- clearly not caring about the impression her body (and it's clear lack of femininity) might make on her-- she nodded again, then looked back to where the enemy was. Two dogs, hunting. They'd find the pair's scent soon, so Fox wanted it to be on her own terms. Hence the blood-letting. It'd get their attention, and, with any luck, they'd smell blood and think their prey was easy, weak. In other words, not be very cautious in their approach. That'd play to their favor.

And speak-- or think-- of the devil. Here the two came now. One, the smaller of the pair, came barreling at the two, trying to beat his larger companion to the kill. He was coming too fast. Fox glanced to the girl with a narrowed eye, then made up her mind. Tackling the creature, she brought it to the ground, grappling with it in a fury of claws, teeth, and fur. That left the other to the girl. Fox hadn't gotten much of a look at it, but what she saw told her it was big. Mastiff big. She needed to finish this up and help, else the girl might just be screwed. She hoped they were close to wherever they were headed.... Because these two weren't the only ones out there. And they'd just been lucky not to encounter more.

[Mariska]

[[Sorry for the lateness on this.]]

Frustrated, the girl sighed as the other was on the ground yet again. Her patience was wearing thinner and thinner as each moment passed and the more her companion - ignoring the fact that the young woman would not agree to such a friendly term - slowed her down the more irritated she became. Yellow eyes rolled in their sockets at Fox's sniffing at the air, though they soon widened in shocked disbelief as the other removed her shirt and made a cut in her chest.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Mariska blurted, ignoring the bare chest but instead gawking at the bloodied glass and red fluid dripping from the cut. Fox nodded over at something, as if there was anything there to justify her actions. Mariska looked, seeing nothing in the darkness until two shadows emerged, one darting quickly towards them and the other cooly sauntering over, as if he were merely trying to buy the girls a drink and not maul them for sport.

As Fox handled the smaller and more excitable of the pair, Mariska perched her bat on her shoulder, arms in the position to swing, and approached the other dog. He smiled at her, though it was more a taunt and a display of the sharp teeth protruding from his mouth and a low rumble echoed out of his throat. Deciding to have the upper hand, the girl charged the dog, swinging her bat at his face with much force. At each strike of the bat he grew more furious, knocking the girl over and viciously damaging her right hand when she raised it to fight back.

Wrenching her hand free from his jaws, Mariska wailed in pain. Pulling her legs to her chest she delivered a quick but forceful kick to the dog’s chest, giving her enough time to pull herself off the ground and launch her own body onto his. The woman roared, tears streaming down her face as her good hand clawed at the beast’s eyes and her other arm clenched tightly around his throat, restricting his air. Blinded, angry, and wounded the animal fought on, struggling against her, until in what would have been a fluid motion were it not for the damage to her hand, Mariska positioned a hand on either end of his head and twisted until she heard a snap. His body fell to the ground in a heap, as did she.

Rising from the remains, she looked down at the dog in fury. As if to assure he was dead, or maybe just to relieve her own stresses, she raised her bat once more and struck the animal’s body again and again, until she felt just the least bit more satisfied. Turning towards Fox, the other girl might for the first time see emotion in the yellow eyes, though it certainly wasn’t an emotion anyone would willfully seek out. Anger and hate burned in Mariska’s eyes, and with a snarl she spat out a sentence to Fox:

”I wouldn’t suppose you’re next in line, are you?”

[Fox]

[[I'm really in no position to complain, now am I?]]

It hadn't taken Fox long to handle the smaller pup. Oh, it wasn't easy, but it was doable. The canine was vicious and eager, but it wasn't too clever, and inexperience gave Fox the upper hand. After spending a whole life fighting just to avoid being trodden down upon like all the other abandoned castaways of the masses, she had developed quite the stubborn streak. And so, when the dog started to realize it was losing, and try to flee, Fox didn't let it. Escape wasn't in the cards for this one. Not today.

Ignoring the distant pain of teeth digging into her arm, a sign of the beast's desperation, Fox held it close, using the bleeding arm to keep the creature pinned to her bare chest. A sensation of itchiness, an annoying discomfort, slowly spread across her torso. It took Fox a moment to realize what it was. The beast's fleas were jumping off of it onto her! Like rats from a sinking ship... She thought to herself grimly, before bringing her other arm up, the bloody glass still firmly within her grasp. Like the dog before, it took only one precise slash.

The dog fell limp in her grasp, blood draining from the gaping neck wound down it's front, and Fox ripped it's teeth from her arm, shoving the corpse away like the piece of debris it now was. She almost moved to aid the female with her then, but one look at her told Fox not to interfere. The larger dog was all but dead anyways, and with that final snap, it too went limp. Fox just perched there next to her own kill idly, crouched in a manner that made her look half-canine herself. As the female delivered those furious blows to the beast's dead form, Fox couldn't help but chuckle. Well, at least until those angry yellow eyes turned to her, and the question was thrown at her like a knife.

”I wouldn’t suppose you’re next in line, are you?”

At that, Fox tilted her head, looking almost curious for a moment, but something in her told her that just maybe, she should answer. After all, the female was pretty decent with that bat. No true fighter, like Fox, but she had potential. Plus, her anger made her stronger, and Fox could relate to, and admire such unbridled rage. After all, she had plenty herself. Alright. She'd decided.

"Not unless we both want to walk away from this mortally injured."

Fox's tone was blunt, but that wasn't the most notable thing about her speech. The thing that stood out was the sheer roughness of it. Aside from whatever guttural noises she had made, Fox had not spoken in a year, give or take a month or so. Her voice was soft, not raspy, just low. It felt somewhat like sandpaper rubbing moderately on your arm, rough, slightly bothersome, but not too irksome. If the female displayed any surprise at the fact that Fox could speak, or the sound of her voice, Fox ignored it.

"As for your earlier question. I can't honestly say I've lost my mind. I'm not entirely sure if I ever had it, however."

Her clipped, literate way of speech became slightly clearer as she spoke again. Perhaps getting used to vocalizing herself. But, introductions to be made, little time to waste. Fox could hold lengthy conversations at another time.

"And my name is Fox. It's fortunate to meet you, or so I shall hope. 'less you intend to strike me down as you did that canine. In that case, we shall have some small issue."

She smiled.

"If you do not, then we should retreat to shelter."

[Mariska]

A scoff escaped barely parted lips as Mariska half-listened to the girl she now knew to be Fox's subtle warning to not press on with the intentions she had. If only that would work.

"I don't know where you came from but you're sure as FUCK not going anywhere else with me!" she fumed, still livid and losing her grip on sensible ideas and appropriate language. Blood dripped down her hand, but she seemed to have already forgotten the pain.

"Since I've found you, what, a fuckin' HOUR ago you've been nothing but trouble. I don't care that you don't have your head on right, there is NO EXCUSE for being a witless piece of shit" she spat out, raising her bat and attempting to prod Fox in the chest with the butt of it.

"I don't see any other way to continue without the fear of you following" the girl who seemed less and less fragile as the minutes ticked by muttered before raising her bat again, both fists firmly clenched around the handle, and attempting to direct a deliberate, swift, and hard blow at Fox's face. Her stance was wide and strong, and if the blow hit her body would hardly rattle at the shock. If Fox swung at her with the glass in hand, Mariska's right hand would dart out and attempt to take hold of the other's wrist before it hit.

[Fox]

Fox sighed. As the end of the bat came towards her chest, her hand came up, stopping its motion towards her bare chest. Her eyes narrowed, and her features tightened, smile replaced by a bothered frown. She didn't lift herself from her crouch, but one cold eye swiveled upwards, fixing Mariska in its path. Cold fire burned out from her gaze, and all trace of amusement had drained from her face. Her clipped voice became even more short, if that were even possible.

"So we're going to play it like this, then."

As Mariska firmed her stance and took a swing at her, Fox's head snapped up, lip curled back and unnaturally sharp teeth bared. It was Fox's canines that made the difference, though, sharp as a tiger's. She laughed, once, but it wasn't a happy sound.

"You really should fear me. I'm not a good enemy to have."

And as the bat came in towards Fox, she didn't bother to go for the glass, but instead, let it come. When the thing was a mere 9 inches or so from hitting her, she snapped her right hand up, striking at the bottom of the bat with the back of her hand. She wasn't going to stop the blow, that'd just break her bones. But a calculated move like this, if it was successful, would cause the bat to narrowly miss her, flying over her head in a tangential arc, ruffling her hair in the process. Too close for comfort.

If Mariska had evaded the strike, then Fox would duck, attempting to avoid being brained by the hot-blooded female attacking her. Whatever motion had been taken, she'd mutter under her breath.

"Unklug."

[Mariska]

Her bat, thrown off course by Fox's swat moved over the other's head, narrowly grazing it. In a fluid motion, Mariska brought the bat back around and sent it's butt rocketing towards Fox's neck and jaw in an effort to strike it. Ignoring whatever Fox had just muttered, Mariska raised her left foot off the ground and would kick hard at Fox's side, hoping to topple her over. If she did manage to topple her, Mariska would act fast and launch another swing down towards the girl's collarbones. If she did not successfully topple the other girl over she would grab firmly and each end of the bat and thrust the middle of it forward at Fox's chest, trying to shove her backwards and cause her to backpedal.

[Fox]

Fox didn't have time to gloat. Coming right at her jaw was the butt of the bat, and it was coming in hard. For Fox, however, the strike was coming in slow, slow enough anyways. Fox couldn't see the blow, because it came on her left side, but she could feel it, persay. She saw Mariska's body twist back inwards after the initial blow, and instinctively knew she was coming in for another strike. To her credit, Fox had only guessed that Mariska was using the butt end. There was a 30% chance she was wrong, that she had misinterpreted the motion, but luckily, she hadn't. But Luck rarely was a kind mistress, or a generous one. Fox couldn't count on luck again.

As the blow came closer, the crouching girl simply moved her head, neck, and shoulders all back, eye still fixed on the girl's face. Her left hand came out behind her, bracing Fox on a few fingers, keeping her balance intact. The bat's end, then handle, then length all slid past her vision, sliding first past her sealed left eye, then her open right.

It felt almost cliche for a moment, like a Matrix stunt. Unreal.

The feeling was swiftly lost, however, as the leg came up to strike at her side. As a result of her first move, the dodge, Fox's righ arm had come up involuntarily, to complete the balance. This arm now was right in position to defend from Mariska's kick.... Or that was the theory. In reality, the kick hit her arm, which lessened the impact, but didn't stop it entirely. Fox fell onto her left side, left arm pinned under her weight, as it had come out to break the fall instinctively. Her right arm was pressed against her stomach and side, throbbing. A pretty vulnerable pose.

Luckily, Fox could take a hit. Her arm was still usable. So, when the blow came at her collarbone, Fox's right arm slammed up, colliding with the bat. The hope was that it would at least deflect the attack to the side. Fox estimated that she was slightly stronger than Mariska, so the counter-strike should work. Emphasis on hope. At the very least, though, Fox, who was still lying on her left side, would only get her right elbow and perhaps the back of her shoulder clipped. If she was unfortunate enough to get hit again, that was.

But Mariska's attack downward was her mistake. No longer could the one-eyed girl avoid attacking. Fox was now in a good position to strike, and she used it. There was little chance she'd miss, with Mariska bent over her. Fox's left leg came out, striking swiftly at the girl's stomach, to send her backwards at worst, and bend her double, even knock the wind out of her at best. Fox's slightly-longer-than-average legs gave her an upper hand, making reaching Mariska with them actually possible. If she didn't somehow avoid the blow, that was.

(To figure out how someone would react to those strikes, I had my sparring partner act the scene out with me. And being my silly self, I wanted full-contact and no protection pads. I have a bruise on my right forearm that won't go away now. And really sore shoulders. This is gonna make for a fun trip to the doctor's when I get my shots this week. I feel really embarrassed.... Just thought I should mention that funny little tidbit.)