Fíadh's lungs expel in a loud 'oof' as she stumbles back on her foot. She blinks in a bit of surprise as she pauses a moment, just a moment, to assess the damage. Huh. Okay, he's deceptively quicker than his large frame would suggest. Time to reassess.

Fists squarely back in front of her she feints to the left, looking to aim high at his face once again before ducking down at the last minute, sending her own blow to his solar-plexus. Sure, she gets the hit off, but damn if that doesn't burst some blood vessels across her knuckles and smears blood against Waen's shirt. What is this man made of, rock?