Quinn settled into her stance as well, and began to edge towards Cyril, keeping her left side and thus eye forward as always. The instant she could, her slow pace burst into flurried motion as she delivered a powerful straight kick directly towards his waist. He'd backstep, and the momentum would be hers, along with the fight. She could see it plain as day; she'd used this exact tactic on Dahlia a few times before, and it had always been pretty effective as an opening gambit. He just needed to dodge, and then—

—His elbow swung down, and he blocked it instead. Her eye shot wide. A quick jab came straight at her, cracking her on the chin. If he didn't have padded gloves on, that would [i]hurt.[/i] Another followed, this one a slow haymaker that would've hit like a truck. But thanks to its speed, she was able to recover from the first hit and slide out of the way [i]just[/i] in time. It turned out that [i]she[/i] was the one backstepping, teeth clenched, ready to get whacked a few more times for her carelessness.

He pressed his advantage, and she did take another hit, though whether it counted was debatable since it only grazed her helmet, she thought. Her breaths came quick and harsh, and she was having trouble reading his motions. She was too used to Dahlia, wasn't she?

Well. What was one of Dahlia's first lessons? Don't focus on his arms. Focus on [i]all[/i] of him. She took a deep breath. He was throwing long punches to try and force her back, keep her past a comfortable reach so she couldn't retaliate. She was just about at the edge of the mat now, she was reaching a limit to how far back she could dodge. But it seemed like every time—she threw a quick punch of her own as he was mid-punch, catching him on the armguard. Yeah, that confirmed it. Because he was trying to keep her at a distance, every time he threw a more impactful punch at her, he would throw his arm way out, so it took him some time to pull it back. She needed to find the right moment...

Ah, there it was. His eyes were flicking to the right half of her face. He was trying to catch her blind spot. Smart. So the next hit would—[i]THERE![/i] His left arm shot out in a hook that she was pretty sure would knock her flat if it caught her. For just that crucial moment, he was exposed. Couldn't block since his arm was out, couldn't dodge since he was going forward. She ducked under the punch, briefly gathering strength in her legs like coiling springs. Going right for the side of her head, huh?

[i][color=ffe63d]Two can play that game.[/color][/i]

Then in a blur of motion, she whipped out a [i]savage[/i] high kick that caught him right in the side of the head, and he dropped like a bag of rocks.