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Which hit his thigh. Because y'know, moving bodies tend to do that, especially when he was going around the weapon to get to her.

With a small grunt, his right fist, which was wrapped around the haft of the weapon to fly straight out and into the face of the woman who pressed herself close to the weapon.

It seemed that dirty tricks were abundant with this one, he should be careful with his movements.

Ever watched one of those Kung Fu films where two people fight in a really enclosed space with obsticles to work around? It was kinda like that now, only it was a rather open space in the forest and the only obsticle was the garafa.

Dark performs best at mid to long range, and not being a stupid person, he simply let go of the heavy weapon with a shove at it's higher end to cause it to tip and retreated back several feet, kicking at the shin of the leg that came at him. In a crouched position, dealing with an off balance or even falling polearm took time. Time which the man used to draw both swords from the small of his back, one in each hand.

Yeah... see those notches on the haft, the ones sticking out here and there away from the crescent blade and towards the weighted end? Well, those were probably going to hinder the woman's plans.

Either way, without wasting much time, the darkly clad man would move in and swing the sword in his right hand up at the weapon in order to knock it away while his left hand darted foreward into a thrust at the woman's gut.

Luckily, he was a rather strong guy, his arms clearly muscled, and as such, as the heavy head of the weapon smashed into the sword, he didnt release his grip around it. The only problem with such a strategy of attack was that the inside of the crescent consisted of a very smooth blade, and as such, as the weapon came down and hit the sword, Dark would rotate his body clockwise as the sword in his right hand would swing around and over the haft of the polearm, aiming to decapitate the woman while she brought the heavy weapon downwards, because leverage was the key to swinging the thing, which meant her head was in a very vulnerable position.

During his turn however, he would slide the blade of the sword in his left hand out of the wide space inside of the crescent.

((Well that was pretty dumb.))

Figuring that the body wouldnt suddenly jump back up and continue fighting him without a head, he sheathed his weapons and pried the polearm out of the dead grasp of the body, the look in his eyes relatively neutral as if he was use to seeing death, undisturbed by the body. With his task done, he continued heading northwards, towards the town of Latent. One dead highwayman - or woman actually - was not something fret over, except that for some odd reason he thought he'd met this person before. With a shrug, he dismissed the thought, probably from a dream or something and carried on, not bothering to look back.

Enter another clone of Shouyin.

Let the hijinks commence!

The great and mighty Shouclone walked along through the forest, eyes shut, whistling softly. His pace was erratic, hopping, skipping and swinging his legs around like a goof. He wore baggy cream-white pants, tied at the waist and ankles and a pair of tatami sandals. He held the Wu-Tang sword by the metal chain attached to the sheath, swinging it along in time with his steps.

And then he'd run into the 'living' girl, literally. Well, if she kept such a carefree attitude as he did, then yeah, run into. If not, she'd probably avoid him and he'd go whistling on by, swinging his sword haphazardly, sheath connecting with her skull by the odd chance. So then, he'd stop, either having checked into her, or whacking her in the head, look at this subject of his random aggression, and speak.

"Whadda Hell? Watch where you're going!"