The Heartwood Gangsters don't cry

Ezekiel had her for only a moment before a flash of ivory limbs and he was flung off. Breath gone. Shorter. Choppier. Harder. To think. Zeke's vision began to short circuit, he saw weird pulsating color and in what seemed like a year within a second it was gone. Blood dropped from the back of his neck where she'd latched onto his scruff and in a few wounds she'd opened with her claws when kicking him. He could still move though and adrenaline had kicked in to spur him on. Fight, win, don't let her win.

He began to circle her, breath heavy, he look rather pitiful. The Manchester boy kept his teeth barred and waited to see what Aeronwyn's next move would be. His instinct told him not to instigate another attack right away. Instead he'd try to use her attack against her.