She felt some tiny gust of life returning through her damaged windpipe, and reflexively drew in a harsh, ragged breath. She needed to keep going, Lexine intuitively understood that and nothing else save violence. Her arm was seized, but she kept thrusting with it, desperate to move it any which way and shake Thomas off or better yet, stop his next punch. No avail. She took the hand that had been beside the man's head and hooked it around his neck. Every part of her was screaming its own reminder of the damage she was incurring to keep up. On an aching shoulder, she pulled herself in close to the man over her. At a shallower angle, Thomas' fist tore into the left side of her skull painfully, but slipped by down the side of her head. She'd probably not be using that eye for a few days. Instead of biting, she looked down at the space between them. Thomas had switched to one knee to keep his high ground as they turned. It was fortunate he had such a big frame, she had just the height she needed to pull her legs in under her. She twisted in the direction they had tilted, and forced with both feet against the ground. She didn't care where Thomas went, she was only concerned with getting up, over, and away.