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Well, on the bright side- Dusty had a good deal of practice with recovering his balance (though he'd never admit why!), at least partially negating the disadvantage of being a two-legged hoofed creature. "Partially" didn't prevent a slight stumble as he had to rapidly compensate for an unexpected obstacle in his path, however, slowing his reaction time.

Cripes, but he's fast! Dusty was no dainty light thing, despite his slimmer build- the deerkitten had a lot of inertia built up for the short charge, and only by hurling his momentum sidewards could he even manage to follow Nao's dodge. It was a little much for his balance, however, and he was forced to bend low and lay his right hand on the ground before he could try flinging another attack at the hummingbird, a weak and haphazard upwards punch with his unhindered arm that would be lucky to land at all.

Whoops.

Too late to do anything but flinch at that point, trying to raise his hand in a too-slow defense; the kick hit hard, and Dusty went down flat on his butt, reeling and grabbing at the place the hit had landed with a whining "Owwww!". Round: Nao, no debate to be held.

Okay, now that... that was something Dusty really didn't have experience with. Some kids had tried pulling dirty tricks on him before, but well, in the first place, Dusty didn't usually get knocked down- and if ever he had, I guarantee, he wouldn't have been up against someone who wouldn't have the decency to give him a chance to recover.

The bone certainly didn't break- but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt, and doubly worse for how unexpected the strike had been. With a startled bleat of a cry, the youth instantly stopped whining over his injuries to scramble to his feet. He avoided getting his tail crunched only by luck.

The deerkitten didn't seem to be entertained by this fight at all anymore. Propelled by adrenaline and the dawning realization that this wasn't turning out like any of the little spats he'd gotten into with other Fa'e before, Dusty lunged instantly into another attack, flinging himself directly at Nao and trying to grapple him (thinking, perhaps, that all he really needed to do was to stop this guy from dancing around, and then he could give him a well-deserved pounding).

The knee wasn't wholly unexpected at this point, at least- Dusty would only fall for so many cheap tricks before he started thinking ahead to avoid them. Shifted his body around to catch the knee on the side of his hip, a considerably less ineffectual target than any place near his solar plexus might've been, he simply concentrated on keeping his weight moving towards Nao, determined not to get cheated out of his first decent hit in the spar.

Which naturally, meant he went right the way that the hummingbird wanted him when it came to heading earthwards. Dusty lost his hat at some point in the fall, but otherwise didn't seem fazed in the least, doing his best to maneuver some small altitude advantage for the ensuing ground bound scrap.

One of the first things Nao was going to discover as the pair went for the dirt- Dusty was considerably heavier than he looked. In fact, there were probably a good fifty pounds of weight that just didn't seem to have any place on the child. Even worse was that Dusty seemed fully aware of this fact, and was doing his best to take advantage of both his weight and momentum to shove the far lighter teen beneath him.

The second thing he was likely to realize: even unintentionally, Dusty had ways of hitting people in close quarters without realizing. When he went down, the armor hanging around him didn't mysteriously hang behind. Nao was able to get at least enough of a grab around Dusty's neck to keep him from being able to slam down too hard, but even when he did hit, it wasn't going to be Dusty's body that would take the impact. The gem-studded, hardened material was going to make the first hit, with all of Dusty's inertia (but not his weight, thankfully) behind it- it was only when he actually landed himself that his weight would hit as well.

The third thing Nao would likely notice? Dusty wasn't even waiting until they hit the ground to go for his first hit. While his left hand was going for a grab at the arm around the back of his neck, no doubt hoping to prevent Nao from winning any points with a chokehold, he was bringing his right elbow across to try and smash Nao a good one across the face.

Every time that Dustin thought he'd adapted to the dirty techniques Nao employed, he ended up surprised. And in pain too, typically. Constantly. Practically without time for recovery between new injuries.

Reaching up to fend for his poor hair, Dusty didn't seem all that bothered by the faceful of liquid- or at least, he hadn't processed where the heck the teenager had managed to find water to throw in his face in the middle of the fight. It he wasn't figured out what it actually was that was blinding him that the reaction kicked in, expressed loudly and enthusiastically with a disbelieving "EUGGGH!"

The deerkitten was suitably distracted now, even to such a point that taking another swing at Nao was no longer appealing. He was just trying to shove the older Fa'e away from him, trying not to even breathe while the disgusting blood was sprayed all over his face. Even Dusty had some basic hygiene standards, and they had just been so thoroughly violated, he could barely even comprehend it. Any attempts to slip away from Naolin were rather ill-timed at this point, though- all he managed to do was give the Aztec Fa'e an easy time of getting the higher vantage point, and maybe kick a half-hearted hoof at Nao's intervening leg as Dusty tried to scrabble away so he could clear his face.

Oh God this fight was gross. Blood was one thing if it were incidental- Dusty'd dealt with that before, though it never really got too bad. But this wasn't like watching some kid go crying off with a bloody lip! This guy was purposefully dropping blood on him, and Dusty was just... flabbergasted and disgusted. His hair was getting red-stained, there was a few drops of blood gumming up the fur on his ears, and God almighty what a mess, if his Guardian saw him like this he'd be grounded for weeks, ******** there was some on his shirt now too, wasn't there....

Yeah, that was not good. Time to call an end to this before Dusty got himself in any more trouble than he was already going to. He felt pretty good about having gotten the best hit in the fight, anyway, he didn't mind throwing a surrender while Nao had the upper ha---

HOLY ******** THAT WAS A KNIFE AND THAT KNIFE WAS IN HIS ARM AND WHERE DID THAT SHITHEAD GET A
GOD DAMN THAT HURT!!!!!!!

Dusty didn't recall ever really getting stabbed before. For all his sword practice, he never really got to fight much with anyone else that had a weapon- and he certainly never got to fight against anyone that would actually go for blood like that. On some level, maybe he deserved it after bashing Nao bloody in the face himself. He wasn't likely to appreciate that sort of justice just now, however.

Howling at the pain, Dusty jerked to try and wrap himself around the injured limb, face contorted and teeth bared at the pain of the knife through his flesh. He was too slow, though- Nao had control of his arm before he could get in to try and protect it, and just the guy's grip was an unbelievable agony on the wounded arm right now. A growing sense of shock was sitting in, a prompt reaction to the pain and flash of anxiety at the injury. Could people die from attacks like that, he wondered? He couldn't even see his arm well enough to see how bad it was, God....

Nao had cheated, big-time. They'd agreed on no-weapons. There was a strange and sudden understanding, as Dusty seethed and struggled and tried to figure out what the hell to do about a blade through his arm and his opponent, sitting on it, asking mildly for a surrender. Yes, Nao hadn't fought fairly; but that didn't mean he hadn't won. And if Dusty wanted to b***h and complain about the rules of the game, then he was going to have to do it with a knife sticking through his arm. And Dusty didn't really feel like that.

"Y-yield!" The deerkitten stammered weakly, caving to the extreme circumstances. Crap, he'd never gotten really hurt before, he didn't know what the hell he'd have to do about it....

Nao was right- no blood, absolutely none. Wait, a drop here- but no, that was probably just a bit that the hummingbird had smeared on when he sat on the arm. Even the knife that had occupied the injury was clean of stains.

Instead of seeming properly abashed by the fact he hadn't paid his fair share of lifeblood, Dusty indulged in whimpering over the injury, drawing the injured arm quickly to his chest and curling around it. He didn't keep this up for more than a second or two before figuring it was doing no good in dampening the pain in his arm, at which point he finally rolled back to a sitting position, cradling his arm and peeking at the gash carefully. It wasn't like the wound itself had disappeared, but it was just like a paper cut; the skin was parted, and probing it with morbid worry, Dusty could even sort of pull the slice open to prove that there was a cut there. But not a speck of blood oozed free from the injury, somehow.

"... That hurt," he whined with an accusatory glare, though the child didn't seem any less baffled than Nao over the injury. The cut went right through, how the heck was there anything lacking? "What sorta twisted knife is that?!" He demanded, diagnosing a different cause for the mysterious wound.

Well... at least the guy seemed friendly enough now that, y'know, Dusty's arm was cut open and he'd scored the big hit for the match. After careful consideration, the deerkitten cautiously accepted the hand up, keeping on alert for any cheap shots even after the fight had officially ended it.

"That's a good 90% of it, I think," Dusty scowled, endeavoring to overcome the bitterness left by the brawl. He probably would have been a good deal more spiteful over the whole affair if it weren't for the fact that Nao was the one still bleeding all over; as was, the deerkitten managed a nasty little smile. "That, and that I prob'ly oughta start carrying a knife around to pull cheap shots myself." If I can convince my Guardian to buy one for me, he amended silently, ducking down to retrieve his hat from the grass.