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- Posted: Thu, 14 Feb 2013 01:31:21 +0000
As she stepped forward quickly, she lowered her right fist and aimed a punch at his lower left ribs.
Krav Maga was a means of survival. It taught one not only to defend themselves in any life or death situation that was ultimately man versus man nature. It also taught one how to sufficiently use their reflexes in attacks and counter attacks. Before he even trained in such an intense art, he had formerly learned that sometimes you had to take a hit, to deal a hit. You just had to make sure that you're hit was stronger. As the fist was fired, Bishop's eyes would take but a fraction of a second to process the trajectory and speed of the punch. Her jab would hit him in the ribs yes, though as that happened, his left fist was cocked and swung out in a vicious hook punch biting for her temple. This punch would either set her up for the knock out, or straight up knock her out. Though she needed to understand just how dirty this fight pit could get. Her current view of how most or all fights had noble purpose was one he would shred to pieces. She had to understand that sometimes, fighting was just fighting, or even something more such as a sport or a living...Literally someone's life. Some enjoyed it. Some hated it but were still drawn to it. And those that can't fight, love to watch. It was like inside every single human being there was a primal beast, scratching beneath the surface in times of great distress. Bishop had proven the knowledge of his beast within to himself. And since then, he was a completely different person. Did she have what it took to push through the pain and unleash hell upon Bishop, or was this fight finished? The fist would rock the side of her head with extreme prejudice just after her fist made solid purchase on Bishop's ribs. He felt immediate bruising, though he didn't suffer any fractures.
Punk Phantom Cat