The atmosphere inside the bar started to close in as the crowd of n began to gather around the 'defenseless woman' they thought Samira was. Their eyes glead with anticipation for the confrontation ahead, predators eager for fresh prey. They advanced simultaneously, hoping to simply annihilate her, overwhelming her with their nurical advantage. However...
Samira was a beast when she was fired up... And unfortunately for them... That was exactly the kind of woman she was right now. A frustrated woman looking for sothing to vent her frustration on.
With a quick and precise movent, she drew a curved knife that had fallen from the first attackers and spun her body swiftly. The first man of the new wave of enemies approached and was t with a sharp, deadly blow, the blade cutting through the air and eting flesh with a muffled sound... his arm was struck.
"Ught!" He staggered back, his hand clutching the wound, a cry of pain escaping his lips.
"Do you really think numbers an anything here?" Samira taunted, her eyes blazing with a fierce glow. Her voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, mingling with the sounds of battle unfolding around her.
"You useless bastards!" one of them shouted, "I'll handle this!" He rushed forward, taking advantage of the opening with a quick punch. Samira, with a fluid motion, dodged and spun around, her elbow eting the bearded man's face. The impact sent him crashing to the ground, his body sprawled almost lifelessly, but he was still clearly breathing.
That said, Samira barely had ti to process his fall before two n attacked her simultaneously.
She blocked one of the blows with the blade of her knife, deflecting the attack with an agile move and cutting the arm of the attacker who tried to disarm her. The blade slid across the skin with cruel precision, leaving a trail of bright blood. The man scread and recoiled, his expression a mix of surprise and pain.
The other man, taller and more muscular, tried to grab her with his hands like claws. Samira sidestepped with a lateral jump and, with a cry of determination, slashed his leg. The man fell with a grunt of pain, his attempt to grab her thwarted.
"Oh, is this what you've got? A bunch of idiots and a handful of rusty knives?" Samira taunted, her voice sharp and challenging. "Did you really think this crap was going to stop ?"
The bartender, Marlon, watched the scene with an expression of mixed amusent and concern. He was used to seeing fights in the bar, but nothing compared to Samira's fury. He continued wiping the glass, his automatic movents contrasting with the intensity of the fight in front of him.
In the midst of the chaos, a group of three n attempted to attack Samira at once, wielding batons and knives. Samira spun to prepare for the assault, her body moving with the fluidity of a dancer and the precision of a predator. She blocked one strike with the blade and countered, cutting the face of one of the attackers. The man scread and fell back, his knife slipping from his hands.
With a quick spin, Samira took down the second man with a well-placed kick, the sound of his bones breaking echoing through the bar. The third man, visibly hesitant, tried to attack with a baton. Samira dodged and, with a swift movent, grabbed the baton, yanking it from his hands and spinning it to disarm him.
The baton struck the attacker's face with a dry impact, sending him crashing to the ground.
Samira looked at the man still standing, her eyes filled with contempt. "I thought you were smarter," she sneered, her voice cold and cutting. "But it seems you're just another idiot trying to show off."
The remaining n, now visibly intimidated, tried to form a defensive line, their eyes filled with fear and anger. Samira advanced, her knife slicing through the air and eting flesh with cruel precision. Despite the damage she was causing her assailants, she was not attacking to kill.
Each of her movents was a combination of grace and violence, her cutting and provocative words echoing through the bar.
"Do you think you have what it takes to stop ? HAHAHAHA," Samira challenged, laughing loudly, losing herself in the action, her voice a mix of disdain and contempt combined with a madness that was no longer being contained. "You're just a bunch of rabid dogs trying to take down with your ridiculous skills!"
One of the n tried to sidestep, searching for a gap in Samira's defense. He advanced with a knife, but Samira, with agile movent, dodged and spun around, cutting the attacker's arm with cruel precision and kicking him. The man fell back, the knife slipping from his hands as he writhed in pain.
"I'm starting to get bored," Samira remarked, her voice laced with a hint of boredom. "If you guys can't give a decent challenge, I'm going to start thinking this fight was a complete waste of ti."
The remaining n, now clearly desperate, tried to attack in smaller groups, their coordination and skill faltering under Samira's relentless assault. Each of her movents was a dance of violence and precision, her sharp words mixing with cries of pain and the sounds of the fight.
In the midst of the chaos, Marlon watched with a look of discouragent. He knew this fight was beyond his control. The bar was turning into a battlefield, and he was stuck in the middle, with little to do but keep cleaning glasses and hope the fight would end.
"Enough, Samira!" A heavy, guttural shout echoed throughout the bar, causing everyone to stop imdiately. A man, half-wolf, appeared at the bar's entrance, looking at Samira with a complicated expression. He saw the scene and couldn't help but think... "When did she get so strong?" It was different, very different from when he knew her, this woman...
The floors were covered in blood, with several n writhing in pain while clutching their bleeding wounds. And Samira? Untouched. Her orange hair had small traces of blood, her hands were stained, and the blade was no longer visible, just blood.
Samira was panting, her clothes had so tears and bloodstains, but her gaze was firm and focused. Seeing the wolf looking at her, she said softly, "So the little dog decided to show up... I thought I'd have to kill them." She said with a smile, rising with a firm posture, "Stop slacking, co on idiots, get up." Samira said, and all the n started to rise... Slowly, their wounds healed completely.
She turned to Marlon, a tired but triumphant smile on her lips. "So, Marlon, it was a pleasure doing business with you again," she said, her voice laden with irony and satisfaction. "But next ti, maybe you should consider that it's better not to provoke so soon and please...
just say he was busy with sothing, and make wait with a beer, not with a bar fight with this gang of mangy dogs, next ti I'll kill." She said, smiling.
Marlon, still cleaning a glass, looked at her with a grin. "I'm sure you wouldn't stay quiet and drink a beer, Samira. Besides... You loved it, you little troublemaker." He said with a smile.
As Marlon spoke, the wolf-man moved closer, coming to a reasonable distance from Samira. His gaze was fixed on her, eyes glowing with a mix of anger and pure curiosity about what had happened to her. "Samira," he growled, his voice carrying a low, threatening tone. "You have a peculiar way of making an entrance. I was beginning to think I'd have to deal with you sooner or later."
"Oh, Jhonatan," Samira replied, her smile widening as she looked at the wolf with calculated interest. "So you finally decided to show up. I was wondering when you'd appear to put so order in the house."
Jhonatan paused, his eyes assessing the scene around him. "I'm not here for that. I was told you had passed through the city gates. Of course, I'd co here, wouldn't I?" He questioned, eyeing the bloodied woman...
"And you should warn your pack that they owe money, it seems they didn't know, because if they did...
I doubt they'd have attacked like this, wouldn't they?" She asked, but the n responded, "Go suck a dick, Samira," one of them said, grabbing a beer mug again, "Go fuck yourself!" They raised their mugs in a harsh, defiant toast, while the bar music started playing again, filling the atmosphere with a vibe of relaxation and disdain.
"Strange people," Samira murmured as she turned to Marlon, "Give a beer, this is going to be problematic." Samira said while leaning on the bar, and looked at the man who only smiled, "On the house, girl," he said, pouring it into a large mug.
"Let's talk, little wolf," Samira said, ordering the werewolf to sit next to her for a beer.
If only Samira knew...
"I need to stop smothering her in my arms, at least temper my obsession..." The man murmured as he looked from across the street, into an alley...
"HIIIHHJIIII" The mare said, well... she neighed. "Yes I know, I'll try to be more open and trust her more..." He said as he looked at a ssage box...
[Mission Completed: Discover sothing]
Strax read.
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