Truth be told, Glaran had not thought she'd actually try and hit him. Instead he had expected her to throw some puffed-up princess temper tantrum. But there she was trying to punch him and putting a lot of her anger behind it from the look of it. Well, he<em>had</em>wanted to provoke her..<br/><br/>The assassin turned slightly, moving out of the way of the punch. His hand curled around her wrist, pulling in the direction of her momentum and a second later she was pressed against him with her back against his chest and her arm folded against her own. Despite the fact that he didn't hold her forcefully tight, she knew she wouldn't be able to struggle free. Her position just wasn't right.<br/><br/>Glaran's breath was warm on her skin as he spoke into her ear softly. "You shifted your left foot just before you threw the punch, betraying yourself. And you overbalanced. Try again." With that he pushed her away from him, gentle enough to give Elizabeth no trouble keeping to her feet. As she turned back to him he smiled at her again, the embodiment of male arrogance.