Moonrise ✔ [Complete]

41 Wish (Part 3)

For a few seconds, Maeyune froze where she stood. His words gave her heart a wild shudder, and her skin grew warm as distant memories whispered into her ear.

Dance...

She was nearly too late to react when he flung himself at her. He reached forward with his arms, meaning to grab her by the waist and wrestle her to the ground, but she sidestepped, swerving out of his path. He caught himself, and his eyes darted to track her movement. He gazed at her for a long moment, tilting his head and licking his lips.

Dance...silver...gold...

She widened her stance, loosening her shoulders and shifting her weight onto one foot for easy evasion. Bringing up her fists, she angled her body to the side and waited for him.

Silver...gold...moon...sun...

Flashes of silver and gold swam in her mind, but she couldn't pinpoint their meaning. She didn't have a chance to contemplate the mysterious thoughts, when he charged her again.

In this second attempt, he endeavored to seize her legs from underneath her. She lurched backward. Missing her entirely, he fell forward where she had once been standing, then recovered quickly to his feet.

He aimed for her shoulders, leaning forward with arms ready to catch her.

But that was his mistake. He wanted to use strength against her, to pin her slimmer body to the ground. She knew this. Years of training had taught her to observe her opponents for a weakness, to use their own strength against them when possible. 

Training...

Yes, she had trained to fight. She could not remember how or why, but the motions of her body told her that she had trained before.

Against this particular opponent, she was smaller, but she had to utilize that to her advantage. With him being the more aggressive, she would tire him out first. 

Speed was her ally. This boy had been a wolf prowling his territory for prey, but like a hare, she would be faster.

When yet again he couldn't touch her, he drew back, chest heaving. "I'm going to...catch you," he said in between breaths, smirking in spite of himself.

She only smiled, amused at his confidence, and assumed another stance.

He wasn't attacking her like he had his former opponent. He was holding back.

She decided to be the first to act. When he moved toward her again--much more cautiously--she dodged his swiping hands, then drove a fist into his gut. It wasn't hard enough to enfeeble him, but it was enough to inform him that she was capable of sparring.

The gasps from the crowd could be heard up and down the alley. Fire bent over, hand on stomach, as his face beamed with surprise. Then, he launched with a punch of his own--at her head. She jerked to the side, using her forearm to deflect his swinging arm, and delivered a rapid barrage of fists into his side.

He grunted through the blows, squeezing his arm to his side and lowering his elbow to reduce the impact. He returned with two jabs. The second caught her on the side of her mouth, and pain spiked through her face, her teeth, her jaw. She staggered a bit to regain her balance, chiding herself for failing to see his attack. When she glanced back up at him, she could have sworn she saw the brief flash of alarm over his triumphant expression.

The crowd around them roared, some waving for him to keep fighting, others now supporting her to win.

Blood trickled down her chin from her stinging lip, and she used the back of her hand to wipe it off. She stared at the crimson smear on her skin, mildly intrigued by it, before offering him a slanted smile.