Movis vanished, reappeared, and raked a clawed hand across Alfraed's ribs. The world pinwheeled, pain flaring, and Alfraed's mind snapped into animal clarity: there—time the blinks. There—catch the flicker in the air.
He hunched low, rolled with the next blow, let it glance off his shoulder. The ground stung his palms. He pivoted and was standing again just as Movis blinked behind him. Instead of dodging, Alfraed leaned into the attack, caught Movis' wrist in the crook of his elbow, and headbutted him clean in the nose. There was a sharp, wet sound; Movis staggered, blinking blood from his eyes.
"Better," Movis spat, crimson running down his chin. "But not enough."
