[@KOgaming]

[i]That chicken wing was a telegraph, and one that Zande wouldn't miss. Max, on the other hand, would very likely fail to see the result. Zande had bitten his tongue up good, hence the working jaws. Right as Max released his punch, a spray of blood would jettison from betwixt the headhunter's front teeth, aimed to spatter Max's face and make him either flinch, shut his eyes, or look away. Would Max expect the islander to go for his throat? A mistake, that would be. Zande would then dip down just below the strike, bending at both the waist and knees in a timely fashion so the arm overextended past his head, and were Max to have been distracted by the blood, he'd next find that the knife had been rammed deep into the crook of his right arm.

Regardless of that result, Zande's momentum would carry him thereafter towards Max's center mass, the lunatic swinging his left arm down low to try and hook it behind the knight's right leg (behind the knee) from the outside, simultaneously attempting to bowl the man over with a heavy right pauldron to the abdomen. A single leg takedown. If it succeeded, the wily headhunter would withdraw his knife (if the stab worked) and attempt to scurry and clamber into a full mount atop Max, his wiry, agile strength a force to be reckoned with on the ground.[/i]