Lys: Fight!

Aithne sat quietly, continuing her stitching. Suddenly her lap was full of peas and the Guttersnipe was nothing but a flying blur.
She looked up and saw her already locked in a battle with the man from the solarium last night. And it wasn't going to end well. She knew that. She jumped off the door and stood crouched, trying to determine her best course of action. There was no time to fetch Wulf, even if she knew where he was.

A rather hefty-looking length of wood sat propped against the door. She had no idea why. Didn't care. Before she could think much on it it was in her hand and she was running towards the pair, praying the whole way for Christos to help them, and screaming like a bean sidhe.

It was hard to land a blow in the proper place. But Calidus got the upper hand for a moment, and Aithne took the opening. She aimed for his head, and brought the stick down squarely on his left shoulder. The rebound was bad enough, she thought, that there was no way he could use that arm for awhile. She leapt back and looked for another opening.