Shiva watched him approach, the angry puppy fuming over the injury to his friend. She saw the skill in the movement, the rage looking for release. She considered obliging him by throwing a punch. Certainly it would be more interesting than the rest of her evening, and she'd be able to measure him better when she saw him strike.
But then he crossed his arms. Shiva's lip curled, just a little, in disgust. It was a move to intimidate, and perhaps it would succeed. If she were an unschooled child. As a martial arts stance, it was profoundly stupid. It constrained not one, but both the arms. Was he really that much of an amateur?
Shiva gave a snort of disappointment. "I was under the impression you were a martial artist. But I see now I was mistaken," she said with a shake of her head. Shiva removed her feet from the man's back. "Take him and go," she dismissed him.