He dodged right, curling his body opposite the incoming blow and gaining the high ground inside his opponent’s stance. From here, he unleashed a fullisade of quick but powerful blows to the soft tissues underneath the protection of his ribcage. After the man was unbalanced, Caleb wound up for a staggering blow to his solar plexus, forcing the man off his feet, wheezing from having his breath knocked out of him. Caleb stood to his full height, barely more than a meter and a half, and began to turn away.

The other man was blinded by rage and with a bruised pride. He stood shakily to his feet and bellowed after Caleb “You’d better watch your back,” as well as he could, given his state. Caleb stopped and turned around, sized the large man up, and simply shook his head and smiled.

He turned back around and resumed his walk. The heavy clunking steps betrayed the approach long before he arrived, and Caleb stopped, ducked, and swept the legs from under his attacker. The man fell on his face and forehead with a sickening clunk as the sound reminiscent of dropping a rock covered in leather onto the pavement. Caleb stood once again and strode off.

He was unaware of whether he had ended the man’s life or not, but he did not stay around to find out. Fighting was a part of life for him. Never looking for trouble, he could not avoid it in his crime-ridden city. Street gangs roamed through the alleys and byways, attacking anyone who did not belong. Caleb did not belong.

He also was very slow to anger. It served him well that he did not submit to rage, especially given his diminutive stature when he was forced to defend himself. The whirl of limbs which often presented itself would lead to pandemonium without calmness, but in all chaos, there is calculation. Caleb thought little and let his body do what it knew how to do.