[ with clarke out of the way, gwen can focus on the big, hulking bandit with the— ] Small head.

[ no, seriously, that shit be fun-size. ]

Is a teeny-tiny head part of your species or are you a bodybuilding experiment gone wrong?

[ she bobs and weaves as she talks, which is definitely doing its part to piss him off too. he has strength on his side, but she has speed and spider-sense. every time it looks like one of his hits will connect she docks, dodges or sidesteps. she also has stamina; his breathing turns harsher as the fight goes on. ]

Seriously, man, [ she observes, ] I've heard of shrunken heads, but never one still attached to its body.

[ he says something that will not be recorded here for its extreme rudeness. but it's not the words gwen cares about as the way he says them. he's starting to lose his breath.

at the next blow, gwen steals his hat and runs. he races after her with an angry roar. stepping onto the wall, she vaults behind him, attaching her web-lines to his shoulders. combining her strength with his own impetus, she pulls, lifting him in an arc above her, and slams him against the ground. ]