The stranger had done very little, only driven the air out of Mekoa's body for a second. She had been trained well. Mekoa deftly snaked a nimble souled boot between her body and her attacker's and forced his head back. Unwinding a strong wire, like the such is used on instuments, she pulled it tauntly against his fragile throat. Her eyes, the window to the soul, betrayed no sadness, no fear, no anger, just nothing.<br/><br/>And then, just before his vision would've blacked out into sweet nothingness, she remembered herself.