Dirigo

He went for the mask a lot faster than he normally did. Hard fingers, rough thick cloth. He didn't even give her time to adjust to the cold on her face before his fist connected with her jaw again, but she took the momentum back, back, bending far until her hands touched tar paper and her foot whipped up like the arm of a trebuchet, snapping his jaw shut for him. He groaned and rubbed at the bone as he stumbled back and when she was upright again she could see the trickle of bright - violent bright - viscous, dribbling down his chin red. Jason was grinning at her. His teeth were pink. He spat out to the side and she was already moving forward again, hair loose in her face.

"Made me bite my tongue, littlest," was all he got out before he had to duck again. Swish, swish. Left right. Spinning to the right so her boot met his chest and she was gaining ground.

"Gonna slur my words." And he did, but he also had a knife, flash bright - even the knife moved with less anger than he did, the hot tension in arm and wrist, the way he stabbed forward, keeping her dancing back until she had to turn, grab his sleeve, twist it back while the heel of her palm met his elbow.

( Jason yelled and dropped the knife, but his good hand latched onto her cape. )