Almost every resident in the encampment circled around a twenty-yard-wide dirt patch in front of the farm house.
Moon Speaker brandished her knife and stuck out her tongue so it hung from her mouth. She hissed and roared with her tongue out and her eyes wide.
“Time to butcher this little piggy,” Moon Speaker said. She stuck out her tongue again and the residents around the fight laughed.
Victoria was shoved further into the circle and glared at the men and women who spit on her and rammed her from behind to force her into the circle. She bared her teeth but kept a calm and ready posture with one hand folded near her chin and one hand folded near her belly. She left her muscles loose to move in any direction and assessed the sloppy movements of her opponent. She recognized the attempt at intimidation all too well. Their size difference was a concern, however, as Victoria’s being created for pilot duty meant she had a petite frame and only reached a few inches over five feet tall in her combat boots.
Moon Speaker delivered a deep roar from her heavy frame. She was well over six feet tall and had enough heft to tip the scales in the hundreds of pounds. She wasn’t obese, but not quite muscular, either. She was a large woman who knew she had strength on her side and made a show of it. Her posture was wide and anchored in place, but with a forward lean to threaten a charge.
Victoria evaluated her opponent’s hands.
Moon Speaker held the knife with a menacing underhand fashion to imply using it directly as a murder instrument. But her thumb was placed over the pommel like someone used to putting their fingers in place for utility use. While it could work to apply more pressure while cutting leather or carving wood, the thumb in such a place put it at risk of being broken during a fight.
Victoria hopped in place.
“You’re a pig, not a bunny, but you can hop over here,” Moon Speaker said. “Time to get skinned.”
Victoria hopped forth then backward the second the tips of her boots hit the ground. She dodged a wide slash which would have cut into her chest had she not already committed to the retreat before she made the first hop. She repeated the maneuver and dodged a backslash. She hopped forward while the knife was overextended away from her and delivered a swift stomp to the large woman’s knee.
Moon Speaker grunted but countered with a firm punch to Victoria’s chest. She smiled at the loud snap heard by everyone and attempted a downward slash with her knife.
Victoria hopped backward in time but took more effort than she wanted to breathe through the pain of cracked ribs. She glanced at the leather and bear pelt outfit her opponent wore and realized there had to be enough material in the legs to offer padding, just enough to resist her attempt at injuring the woman’s knee. She winced and hopped backward again to gain more distance.
“Are you hurt, piggy?” Moon Speaker held her arms out to trigger a roar from the crowd. “I’d be glad to put you out of your misery.”
Victoria hopped forth and ducked in time to dodge a slash. She went to the ground and grabbed handfuls of dirt. She threw one upward and knew exactly what would happen.
Moon Speaker dodged the puff of useless dirt and brought her knife down in an efficient arc to stab right into Victoria.
Victoria expected the move, the most obvious one any novice would make against a kneeling opponent. She sidestepped the stab on her knees and threw her other handful of dirt directly into her opponent’s face. The moment of distraction allowed her to grab Moon Speaker’s weapon arm and force it along the rest of its obvious arc, directly into the woman’s thigh.
Moon Speaker kicked her opponent away with her good leg but staggered against the pain of a deep laceration in her other. Blood welled up from the crimson hole and her leather pant leg was soaked within seconds. She grabbed the wound instinctively with both hands and blood poured out between her fingers. It took her a moment to realize what she was doing.
Victoria got up from the ground but had the knife in her hand. She limped, with the kick having landed square in her pelvis and possibly having caused a good crack or two. She faked a doubled-over state and made a show of holding the knife with a loose grip, almost to the point of dropping it. She huffed against the pain in her ribs but played up the effect of the wounds so she appeared to be a moment away from collapse.
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