Grant’s perspective:
In the midst of the commotion, Vin lunges out of our calculated dance, shifting in midair, aiming for my exposed upper body. His rampant claws and fangs are about to hit their mark. I lock my right fist then, as I back-spin on my heel, I sling my fist out and use the momentum generated to lay my knuckles into his ribs, full force. As his ribs crack and bend around my right fist, I heave a hooked left arm up over my head, snapping my torso at the hips with immense force, and bury my palm into his spine, driving Vin’s grey pelt straight into the dirt.