weave (inktober)
Despite his best efforts, the punch landed. Upon connecting with his face, he lost balance for but a second yet was able to quickly regain his focus. He saw the next punch inching closer and his neurons fired. He ducked, leaned away from the follow-up strike, jumped over a leg sweep and held up his elbow to deflect a chair. Knives swished by his nose and some sand barely missed his eyes. The referee reflected in the shine of his eyes and he managed to roll underneath him, out of harm's way. He dislocated his shoulder and, with a big wind-up, launched his gloved-up fist. It traveled some distance, still connected to him via a red string, making it possible to slightly influence the trajectory. Thus, dodging the attack proved difficult and his fist landed right in his opponent's midsection.