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Whore... Lace could not begin to count how many times she had heard that, nevermind that she had never been with a man before, muchless many. But such was the way of men and their ability to fathom a woman bigger than tham, stronger than them. They resorted to name calling to make themselves feel a man again. The insult flared through her brain, agitating her senses and burning her arms with a desire to throttle him, crush his throat, and claim her victory. But he had drawn blood first and as yet the only thing she had to show for her efforts was his reddened throat.
Swinging the dagger towards him, she slashed left to right, the angle of her blade cutting from the lower body towards the upper body. His arms came out to stop the motion, but there was a lot of force behind her motion, despite the wound in her opposite shoulder, and the blade cut across the back of his forearm, slicing shirt fabric and the tip of the blade slit open a deep furrow in his flesh. The wound was nothing in comparison to the wound that Lace had taken to her shoulder, but it was enough to send pain through the man's arm as she whipped her arm back into position and glared at him with a wild grin etched across her lips.
"Haya's whore," she snarled at him, throwing his own insult back in his face. Then she shuffled forward again, her massive body angling forward to slice at him again with the dagger, this time the blade arching upwards from the right, trying to slash him in the left arm.
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