Cora winced as Phil was struck dead in the jaw. Will's water gloves buffered most of the impact; he could have hit much harder. Of course, Phil was automatically at a disadvantage since he didn't have the sun to back him up as his natural source of power.  Cora should have taken that into consideration -- it totally slipped her mind. 

She walked by Phil as he returned to his seat, giving his shoulder a pat. [b]"You did good, Phil. The Vygorns will have their hands full once we're ready to kick ass."[/b]

Standing off from the fire pit, across from Will, Cora held a loose cat stance. Her weight was shifted on the ball of her back foot, her other foot pointed toward Will. Her hands were up in open palms, steady and still. It all instantly appeared in her mind again, all the training she absorbed from her few years in the dojo, all the skirmishes she was a part of in the Atlantian slums. She had to trust her body, and trust her instinct. 

Her eyes flickered up from Will's chest just for a moment, and she took in his face. The same face that looked back at her on the other side of the bars, back when they were locked in the alien bastards' tent. A swell of gratitude bubbled up within her, and she smiled. [b]"Your move, Will. No holding back."[/b]