Marek fell and then slid away from her, onto his side. He rolled onto his stomach to get up, pressing up on his hands as he glared at her. But they seemed to have reached some kind of stalemate that they were both aware of, and in his current physical condition, he wasn't inclined to push it. No matter how tempting it was.
Still, he could have the last word - so to speak, since he wasn't actually talking at all. He stomped to the table to get the food he'd promised Chas, and then to the door, slamming it hard behind him. The sound of it was more satisfying than the fight itself had been, and he turned on the spot, Apparating away.