The speed of her adversary caught priroda off guard, but did not stop her completely. Priroda was not just some weak little girl. Once her sick caught onto the hooks, priroda forced the swing past. She was in no way stronger than the man before her, but he was strong enough to ruin his footwork when allowed to apply unhindered force upon his chest.

Thus, the glancing blow turned into a grapple of sorts. Strong follow up, combined with stronger footwork allowed priroda to force her opponent to slide. With no stable footwork, the blows he delt upon her were merely glancing, and could not possibly bring priroda earthwards before bringing her advassary down as well. The hooks upon her opponents flesh drew blood across her face in a gash that would pottentially cause a problem as time passed (3 turns before blood loss effects priroda significantly.). Furthermore, the kick to the gut, with such close distance and poor fotwork could never build enough momentum to transfer force past priroda's bronzed armour. From priroda's viewpoint, the reward for the exchange was well worth while for priroda.

The follow up on the swing, though slower than the swing would have been traditionally, still acted as a successfull catalyst for the vine. Resultantly, the vine still sprung forth from the earth, as mentioned before, bearing its powerfull stingers. The vines aimed to wrap about the man's chest, starting right where the sickle was embedded in hooks. With the sickle stuck the way it was, priroda would maintane enough influence that evading the vines was nearly impossible.

Priroda was clearly struggling with the physically advanced adversarry. Already, her breath was comming in large fast passed breaths, that clawed the air before her. Priroda's shoulder was still injured, and she needed to make space to injest her moss before she had any chance of a long drawn physical fight with this man. Furthermore, she was covered, anywhere where armour wasnt, with abrassions both large and small, that began to cloud her mind with the stiging sensations of pain, and the numb sensation of bloodloss. Priroda was pushing her physical limits, and one single more significant blow would Cripple her, beyond battleworthiness at the least.

"eto stanovitsya vse trudneye ." ( this is becomming difficult.) She muttered under her breath, amidst her physical struggle. Her voice was shaky, and the words were mumbled past her grinding teeth. "mne nuzhno Sol!" (I need Sol). She was begining to see how clearly outmatched she was individually against her foe, and that unless proper teamwork came into play, she wouldnt last long against him. Small tears were creeping up at the edge of priroda's eyes.