He spun, tearing the hair from his hand and using the brief slack to put distance between them, shaking the feeling back into his fingers.
She stood across from him, chest heaving, her braids hovering in the air around her like a crown of dark blades.
"You're the first person fast enough to grab it," she said. Something in her voice had shifted—less confident now, more focused.
"You're the first person whose hair has tried to strangle me," he replied. "We're both having a strange day."
She sent four at once.
He dropped low, letting two whip past overhead. He caught a third against his forearm and used it to yank her off balance, then sidestepped the fourth entirely. Her footing broke and she stumbled.
He was behind her before she could recover, one arm locked around her throat, careful but firm.
