Although she managed to block his kick, he quickly recovered as he dropped his foot down to the ground and recovered full stability. Her counterattack came with what the Clockwork Man presumed was characteristic ferocity, a swift left hook aimed at his head. Certainly she was fast, and strong, but there was no finesse, no skill. Obviously he was fighting an opponent who bested relatively weak opponents with ease, and had no formal training.
She had invested everything in the attack, and although he was fast there was no conceivable way for him to avoid it completely. His head turned as he twisted his body to the left, the blow rolling into the side of his metallic head and causing it to crack backwards. The clockwork within screeched and grinded in annoyance from the impact, and he took a single step away from her to compensate for the blow. As his head twisted back into position eerily, the noise stopped. It would take more than a single impact, however powerful, to permanently damage his inner mechanics.
The gun at his side whirred onwards, telling him a shot was prepared, but he saved it for now as what he would describe as modest anger took control.
“That hurt.” He muttered. Stepping forward and dodging to the left, driving his right fist low and forward towards her abdomen. However, if she moved he would quickly abandon this attack for his real move, throwing his left hand up to grab her right horn. He would only do so briefly however, as he would then drive his right knee into her left thigh and pull her head downwards into his right fist as he drove it upwards in a vicious uppercut.