With the few rounds made, the big guy had lost both his leg's grip and stance. The coachman, even in his final moments, had truly been there for her. Either that, or just to make his concluding hour be thought of as awe-inspiring.
Unluckily for him, the sword in which he held on to had been seized from his uphold, by the giant who later on realized just how much of a threat the coachman could be even as he is half dead.
Tossed far from his, or from Fionna's reach, the defensless man brawled, effortlessly, till the very ends.
Either way, the swing of his sword the second time, deepened a small piece of flesh from the first. Making two parrarel, yet tangent at a point, lines.
Also, with a bit of pressure applied on the foot, the blood starts rushing like a little hole at the bottom of a
