“That will teach you not to kick dirt at me again, you pathetic little man.” Fury spat, his kick having landed with the force and super-natural energy behind it causing Kanitah to be launched for the second time in this fight away from him. The satisfying crunch his boot had made on contact with his foe’s fingers told him he had done some damage, though nowhere near enough for his liking. Fury marched up on Kanitah, trying to close to that distance where fighting was possible for two unarmed combatants. He was growing frustrated with the fight; Kanitah was proving more difficult than before to pin down and drain, stripping him of his fighting potential while increasing Fury’s own. Instead the reverse was growing more likely, and Fury was getting pissed.

As his temper flared someone watching particularly carefully would have spotted the grass at his feet literally dying as he stepped upon it, the life energy within completely consumed by the Void’s vessel. That same effect was what Kanitah had in store for him if he didn’t move quickly enough.

Seven feet separating them, provided Kanitah had made no sudden movements, Fury would approach with his arms and hands wide, staring down his foe and waiting for his move, half crouched himself to negate his opponent’s short stature.