He could no longer feel the pang of physical exertion in his muscles but the rush of his blood still sung in his veins. In the distance he saw a rider...coming out of the haze, he quickly saw that the rider was distinctly female though it was impossible to see her clearly. Her body was shuffled ever closer by the trot of her steed and every time a new shaft of light hit her she appeared different, as if all at once she was, blonde, brunette, redheaded, raven-haired, slim, athletic, voluptuous,. "There's n-no need to talk to me likethat."And Paul said, "Yeah, well what are you going to do about it?" He hadhis fists up, but he looked ridiculous next to the big man. He barelycame up to his chin. Paul's not really a fighter, he's a scrapper. Buthe's also too stupid to know when to retreat. He took a couple ofswipes but the guy put up an arm like a log and deflected them. He sortof advanced and Paul stepped back and stumbled against the edge of thebench and fell on his arse. And. More

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