The breath wheezes out of her, his knuckles - although he won't know this - matching remarkably closely to the scars between her ribs, hidden under her sweater. She sucks in a short gasp of breath, rolling back with the blow, her fists raised.

"I told you," she snaps, her voice a little taut from breathlessness, "go fuck yourself."

He's strong. She can feel that. Stronger than she is, for sure - she might be crazy, but she's not completely out of touch with her own limits. She's tough, but that doesn't mean she can match him blow for blow. Just like she can't crowd him out or try to wrestle him down - she just isn't bulky enough.

So, then: go for the eyes. So to speak. What she actually goes for is the gut, not with a punch but with a knee, abandoning boxing form entirely to bring her elbow up into his solar plexus. Let's see if you're tough, too.