Remy threw himself sideways as the knife left the sheath and was well away by the time it flew by him. Rolling upward into a crouch, Remy pushed himself to his feet. The disorientation was still there (and possibly a slight concussion from all the headwounds) but he was well enough.
"Oui, jus' a little." He was quick with the staff, feinting a blow to her face before truly lashing out to her right side with vicious force. He'd ceased to pull his punches by now. "This gettin' old yet, chere? Or y'still wanna play this game?"