amc3

Continued from x. 

“DIRTY RAT!!!” shouted the enraged brute as he tumbled to the ground hitting the concrete hard as his knee cap twisted unnaturally.

A string off curses followed as one hand clutched at the injury and the other attempted to push him up off the ground and onto his good leg. “That’s a little bloody more than your fair share of revenge!” Half way through the motion of standing his thought better of it and slammed his good leg into his ground level foe.

The sound that left Mire upon the impact was a cross between a yelp and a groan. The sound that came after this was nothing less than a snarl. Surely something had bruised or broken, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Creighton was still upright. Wrapping their fingers around his ankle and yanking his leg toward them as hard as they could, they twisted onto their side and brought their knee up to their chest before kicking out like a spring for the space between his legs.