Bruce felt his airway tighten under Ross' grip. He coughed once, loud and hard, once Ross dropped him back to the ground. He sucked in a gulp of air and briefly assessed Ross' state. A second was at least longer than it had taken for his own sword to recover from a hit from Bruce's blade. Not by long, though. Still, the fact that Ross had requested any length of time as a time out in the middle of a test meant he'd achieved something. He opened his mouth to apologize for the wound, but thought better of it- he had a feeling it might offend Ross somehow. Though he tried not to, he couldn't help imagining Ross' response. [i]"What the hell does that mean? You think that puny little box cutter you call a sword could hurt [/i]me[i]?!" Imaginary Ross then flexed needlessly.[/i] Bruce puckered his lips, trying to repress laughter. [color=0072bc]"Snort!"[/color] Yet a snicker still escaped. Bruce's cheeks puffed up as Ross turned a perturbed glare on him. "What's so damn funny?"