Zel's expert blow knocked the shovel clear away, clattering against an upturned wheelbarrow. Oz dashed back quickly to avoid any follow up blow. He could already feel the sharp pain in his right hand from the attack. Shrugging it off, he curled his fist into a ball, knuckles cracking dramatically. He took a boxer's stance to protect his vital areas, holding both arms close to his body.

	The adrenaline was rushing and Oz felt like talking as he backed carefully toward the barn. "Whew! You gotta teach me some of your moves if I don't die. Promise?" He grinned again. This guy was good, even if he was a loon. Zel still didn't show quite how he caused such damage in a few short moments. Maybe he was going easy on him? Maybe he was bored? Neither was a good prospect right now.