While he could predict the bow swing from before, Dolain had no way to foresee the punch that was about to come his way. It felt good to embrace Lalin. The contours of her body were familiar. For a small moment, Dolain could almost pretend everything would go back to the way they used to be. The tension in Lalin’s muscles didn’t bother him. He figured she was just calming down. When she pulled away from him, he blinked in a confused way. The next second, it was as if the realities of time and space blipped away and Lalin’s fist connected with his jaw. The hook punch forced Dolain to stumble to the side. He didn’t fall or get knocked out, but his eyes closed in reaction from the impact. Pain stung through his jawline. He placed a hand over the spot. It was swelling already. The skin had become a mottled red and with time it would bruise into a brilliant purple. He straightened the best he could. The elf's nails dug into his palms as he attempted to compose himself. His chest heaved up and down dramatically. For those used to brawlers, it was clear his adrenaline had rapidly increased. His face flushed. At first there was confusion upon his expression, similar to the many bemused looks he gave before, but then it faded away into a rather furious glare. Even if Lalin had stayed near, he wouldn't have hit back. Dolain may have even tried to calm the energy flowing through him by making a joke and laughing. But as he watched Lalin walk away, a surge of emotions and thoughts bubbled up in him. She wasn’t even going to bother to check on how much she had hurt him or tell him what was really going on in that mind of hers? Punch, then leave. While Dolain understood aggressions to solve problems, just one punch and then leaving never solved anything. Had she simply brought his weapon back to try and harm him with it? There had to be more to it than that, there had to be more to it than the empty words she was yelling at him. What is really going on? Dolain tried to ignore the blur of thoughts in his mind, but the stinging in his jaw made it difficult... too difficult.
“Look at yourself, Lalin!” Dolain pointed at Lalin to make it clear he was speaking to her, and only her, as his voice suddenly rose. It echoed through the alienage causing many of the spectators to glance over at him, then at where he was pointing. One of the city guards had stepped away from their post to check on the commotion that was being created. A few older urchins were looking restless and whispering to each other on the sides of the buildings. Dolain continued loudly. Lalin could walk as far as she wanted, but she wouldn’t be able to escape his voice that quickly, “I don’t even know you anymore. Here you are, punching one of the few people you will ever be able to trust, using their own weapons against them... using magic to heal guilty shem, not even caring when you stand in the blood of the dead elves those shem killed, pretending you are some important person but you know that if you did anything these shems disliked, they wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of you.” Dolain glanced over at Ordhan for a short second before returning his attention to the retreating Lalin.