Perfect Timing
Aina adjusted quickly. Her battle sense had always been beyond Leonel's. What Leonel had to deduce and calculate, she did as naturally as breathing, her instincts and reflexes existing on a plane all to her own.
Facing the oppressive leg kicks of the Rapax, her movements were as calming as a spring's wind and as lithe as a ball of cotton.
Leonel observed without a word, his mind entering a different sort of state. Now that he was out of his raging battle mode, he began to think about things in a new light. It was quite interesting, of all the battle styles the Rapax could have with its powerful body, their race seemed to have chosen to become a group of kicking experts.
One would never expect such a thing from their poor overall posture. But, at the same time, Leonel had to admit that it suited them quite well.