There was a pregnant pause as Yvonne's strike found its mark, the announcer and the hag's voice a dull echo in a faraway place. Then the mercenary saw the bear regained his (heh) bearings, and for a split second she recognized what a bad spot she's in - attack already fully committed, now within mauling range of a very pissed off bear who just lost his crown jewels. Who's fault was it to land her in this situation? Riiight, it was past Yvonne. What a bitch-

A heavy swipe filled with rage and little sense. The arena spun, the mercenary oddly serene as she reflected over the blow, noting that it's all blunt with no claw involved. Too angry to properly kill her, huh? Though, to be fair, this was normally enough to shatter an average man-

Her thoughts was interrupted again, this time by the sandy gravel of the arena. Bounced once. Twice. Found orientation, didn't matter, bounce a third time. A final fall, and she's still. [b]Ow[/b]. That hurts. Okay, let's see. Nothing was stomping over to finish her off. That's good enough for now, either the bear was in too much pain to move or her team managed to occupy it. Yvonne laid on the ground face-up, assessing her own condition for the time being.

Quick version: Not good. Not good at all. In fact, she's feeling fucking terrible. Been a while. Anyway.

Sore was the first thing she felt. Sore and bruised. As for where the bruise was, well, it's probably faster to ask where the bruise wasn't. Yvonne can only be sure that it's her neck - just about everywhere else throbbed with pain. Could taste iron in her mouth, huh. Must've split her lips in the impact. Elsewhere...

Head felt fine. Can think. No pain from within, so brain should be fine. Breathing hurt. More than it should. And more difficult. Fracture there, then. Next, limbs. Right shoulder... didn't felt [i]right[/i]. Heh. That's what impacted ground the first time. Probably dislocated. Gotta fix that soon. Left arm was struck by the bear, but no bleeding. Hurt like a motherfucker though, it'll bruise real bad soon enough. Legs were functional, likely with an additional mace-shaped bruise where her own mace was pressed to the flesh by the impact.

First thing first, the shoulder. Boss - of the mercenary company, not Sparky - showed her how. Step one, sit up. Pain. But she sat. Right leg folded up, clasp both hands around it. Lean the head back, roll the shoulder forward-

[i]Click[/i]

[b][color=#a4161a]"Fuckshitbitchdamncocksuckermotherfuckingdirtywhore- that hurts-"[/color][/b]

It felt like she blacked out for a split second there. Yvonne very much would like to collapse back into a bruised heap, but the enemies wont wait for her to recover. Wobbling, she slowly and carefully returned to her feet before surveying how's the battle going on. The polearm wasn't around anymore. Didn't matter much, she doubt she can wield it effectively in this state. Sword drawn again, the mercenary glared at the faint trace of bloodstain on it. Tch, cleaning the scabbard will be such a pain. But that's for future Yvonne to worry about, after she survive this whole debacle.