The crowd roared again. Neferi blocked under her opponent's hook and returned with a swift, light jab that only served to infuriate him more. Betting slips exchanged hands and spectators with gold on the line cheered for their chosen champions. She ignored the screaming crowd, focusing on the half-orc in front of her. He was her toughest fight yet, a hulking mass of muscle towering over her and an obvious veteran of underworld fighting pits of dubious legality across the planes.<br/><br/>"Stand and fight, you blue bitch!" He growled in frustration as his attacks continued to meet nothing but air or a blocking arm. "Take a pounding like your whore mother!"<br/><br/>The marid allowed herself a small smile. If he was resulting to insults now, he was getting riled up and ready to make a mistake. She had been observing him throughout the fight - alcohol on his breath and jaundiced eyes, a slight limp in the right leg, a tilt of the head that favored his left ear.<br/><br/>"What's the matter, daddy ran away because of your mother's ugly face?" he continued to jeer.<br/><br/>Neferi's smile faded instantly, the verbal jab striking too close to home. She rushed forward, which in retrospect was not the brightest idea she had all day. Her wild punches were too easily countered and she was sent reeling backwards with a well-timed cross on her opponent's part.<br/><br/><em>Focus, can't let him get to me,</em>she told herself, her world spinning, tasting blood on her split lip. The half-orc was charging her, capitalizing on his advantage while he thought she was disoriented and in a flash of inspiration, Neferi saw her opening. His opening left jab was a feint, followed up by the real blow with his right - which left his body exposed for a moment. Ducking under his swing she executed a short hook to the bottom of his rib cage, sending a painful shock to his alcohol-engorged liver that paralyzed him for a moment and left him open to a further open-handed strike to the left ear dazing him. A heel kick to the right knee reopened an old wound and collapsed his leg under him, bringing him down onto his knees and to her level. She took a final step back and delivered a roundhouse kick that sent him flying out of the ring and into the going-crazy crowd.<br/><br/>Taking her share of the winnings with her, Neferi left the slummy underworld of the city of Glass and returned to its more reputable districts, the alchemical concoction that had disguised her wearing off along the way. It wouldn't do for a scion of the house of al-Samara to be seen in the fighting pits, after all. She made her way back to the palace and even took a side entrance to avoid any questions about where she had been. Of course, Aunt Arensha was there as though she knew Neferi would be trying to slip in that way.<br/><br/>"You're bleedinya," the catwoman fussed, frowning in concern. "Where have you been?"<br/><br/>Neferi put a finger to her lip and it came away red still. "I'll take a bath. It'll heal right up," she tried to avoid the question.<br/><br/>Of course, it didn't work. "Have you been fightinya again?"<br/><br/>"So what if I have? You're not my mother, why would you care?" Neferi immediately regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. "Sorry, Aunt. I didn't really mean it. Here," she handed the gold over. "It wouldn't feel right, you and the others working so hard to maintain the palace, if I didn't do my part. That's why I fight."<br/><br/>Arensha sighed. "The gold's not worth how much we fret over you whenever you sneak out like this. If worst comes to worst, we can sell the palace and survive, but if anything happens to you..."<br/><br/>"Heh, don't let Mother catch you saying that. You worry too much, Aunt. I'll be fine!" Neferi flashed the cocky grin of the self-assured invincibility of youth, and went to take a bath.<br/><br/>She relaxed as she soaked in the water, letting the sweat and grime wash off of her body. She could feel her body rejuvenating too, and when she checked again her lip had closed up with no scar of the previous injury.