《The Nether Wolf [CURRENTLY ON HIATUS!]》Chapter 16: Let's talk
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"Crap" I answered to Ollie or Owl or whatever you'd call him as he leered under my extended arm. Pulling back to decide a strategy for this fight he suddenly punched upwards, and as I moved to avoid it, he twisted his body, changing the direction of the punch and nailing me in the jaw. "You know, I actually took boxing lesson while I was still living on Earth. And I always have been the fastest." He winked at me. "My condolences for your girlfriend." I mumble back between half closed lips as I cradle my jaw in my hand. He seemed to find that very humorous and started laughing and then commented: "This is why I wanted you to join me, not for any strategic advance two possessed people give in a fight, but for the fact we are both from Earth. I mean, it doesn't happen like in the movies, you know, when the guy from our World arrives in a different one. When he makes a joke about our pop culture and uses our kind of humor and the natives look him like he's crazy and he's all smug about it. No, it's the exact opposite of that, the people of this world use their pop culture references and their type of humor and I'm left hanging, thinking what that was all about. Being from different world doesn't make you special, it makes you an outcast!" He raises his voice to emphasize the last part.
Having decided on a wrestler or other grabbing fight style approach to end this with my forte, strength, Owllie takes the offence first before I can get moving. Hit and run tactic as one might expect from faster opponent, one punch lands as I try to grab him and he retreats, repeated to infinity for few minutes. He grimaces when it begins to clear to him that he isn't doing sufficient damage with the one punch he can land before being forced to retreat. He also seems to be completely aware why he has to retreat, as he avoid my hands with all he got, but simply sidesteps my kicks, so tricking him on getting closer might be hard. He seems to have an idea as a small smile creeps up tho his face and he starts talking: "You know, I don't really understand why we don't see eye to eye with this, I mean, aren't the weak the plaything of the strong, and whose stronger than us?" So his plan was to get me angry, with kinda pathetic attempt at that too. "You won't get me angry, especially now that I know that's your plan." He smiles at that.
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"Angry? How does one make a prude like you angry? How about talking about the girls I've kidnapped till this point? I mean sure, I got them as food, but I never really learned the rule that you shouldn't play with your food!" He answers while the smile on his face deepens. It's actually working, as I feel my pulse rising he continues: "Or how about the fact how my new body makes the act little difficult, I mean do you know how careful I have to be not to break them during..." At this point I snap and rush in forgetting my plan and begin flailing my fist around, reminding me about the time with the wolf and the spear and how it ended. Predictably he avoids every punch by hairs length while laughing. "Can't get you angry, eh?" He shrieks between bursts of laughter and avoids my last punch by jumping backwards more than twenty feet.
"But over the shoulder punches? What, are you readying an imaginary bow? Don't you know that punches should be done like a boxer?" He demonstrates by taking the Peek-a-Boo stance Mike Tyson was famous for using. But the distance he took has made me calm down I don't respond to his mockery. He seems to notice and wry smile spreads on his lips as he keeps going: "What, aren't you going to avenge the maidens... Oh, I guess you can't really call them that after what I've done, now can you?" I pretend to lose it as I rush in, but this time I keep my head low and arms wide to maximize defense and reach. "Now first rule of boxing in a fight is the right style of punching." he says as his stance deepens. As I have reached the optimal distance for him to punch, I'm toppled by sudden pain in my left calf. "Second rule is not to box while fighting!" He says as his kick disturbs my rush, and finishes it by punching me in the face with a straight right. This time it's his turn to flail around, albeit more successful than mine. As every one of mine missed punches is successfully met by him landing a one. My left hook is ducked and gut punches are delivered in a combo, my knee is avoided with a sidestep and liver punch is delivered with the momentum. Trying to elbow him while turning to face him gets me a punch in the jaw, again. Right jab is met with a counter and my nose starts to bleed.
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With my nose bleeding he seems to pick up speed and I'm forced on the defense instead. If I lift my hands to guard my face, I get punched in the gut, and reversing the guard reversed the strike too. If I spread my arms so that one guards my face and one stomach, leaving my chest as the only open area, he reminds me that this isn't the ring by crotch kick. Trying to guard it by bending my legs got me kicked in the back of my head as I'm too slow to respond his circling when my legs are in an awkward position. So I take a pot shot with my right and he grabs my wrist, spins around the back of my arm while still holding my wrist, pulling it further for speed and lands his elbow on the side of my head with that momentum. My stance crumbles and he kick me on the back of my right knee, causing me to fall on my knees and he uses the opportunity to knee me in the face. The bleeding gets faster.
As I begin to rise, he takes his shot wherever he gets one to land, favoring my liver, gut, face and jaw. With the recent hits causing my head to swim, I don't raise my defense or even respond otherwise. He seems good humored as he begins talking yet again while still delivering hits as he gets them: "Really? You try to be a hero with this? All you got was your strength and it doesn't help if you can't even land a one punch! Oh, must burn to be so powerless even with the new strength you got from the wolfie. What do you think about that?" I spit my response to him, literally, as my response is to spit nice mouthful of blood on his face. Then I get my head back in the game, also literally, as my tactic is to headbutt him halfway across the clearing. Not really the grab and crush I was going for, but I don't think I can grab him for now.
My forehead makes a contact with my now blinded opponent's nose and I feel it twisting, breaking under my skull as he is pushed on his back and into a slide on the ground. He rolls with the momentum and tumbles over further than I could have sent him and rises up little unsteady on his feet. "Now what was that for?" He asks in his humor full tone I'm slowly getting fed up with. "It sounded like you wanted to embrace the beast inside you, and it being a bird, I decided to send you flying." I respond. He smiles and says: "You know, the invitation to join is still on the table." I spit more gathered blood on the ground as a response.
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