( A sword fight is certainly more their style, confrontation which serves as training and sparring, but there's a release to using fists — the flood of relief at being back to something so familiar washes over Steak, but he doesn't let that stop the ball as it begins rolling. This is as much a matter of pride as it is habit. After all the nonsense of this city and this mysterious graffiti artist, winning a fight against Red Wine is just what Steak needs to throw his world back into something approaching balance.
Though, Red Wine has always been the faster of the two of them, and even though Steak anticipates the move the second Red Wine blurs, his reflexes aren't agile enough to avoid the kick which hits him in the side as he's halfway through turning. He grimaces, scrambling some control back with an outreached hand to try and grab Red Wine by the ankle as he steps backwards and collides with a stair. There's not that much room on this staircase.
Oh well. It's good practice for some future disaster, Steak is sure. )
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Though, Red Wine has always been the faster of the two of them, and even though Steak anticipates the move the second Red Wine blurs, his reflexes aren't agile enough to avoid the kick which hits him in the side as he's halfway through turning. He grimaces, scrambling some control back with an outreached hand to try and grab Red Wine by the ankle as he steps backwards and collides with a stair. There's not that much room on this staircase.
Oh well. It's good practice for some future disaster, Steak is sure. )