The kitsune watched her drop the sword and gave her a half-bow of approval, smiling weakly with the gesture. He preferred not to fight at all, but if he had to fight, he preferred it without weapons. Like magic, he considered weapons to be a cowards way out of real combat. They both had claws and teeth if it came down to it anyway.
So he decided to indulge the catgirl and stay to fight. He was quite confident in his own abilities, and it showed. She began to circle him, her head bleeding still and filling her mind with frenzied thoughts, and he stood and watched, managing to look both soft and harmless, and yet the way he seemed not to care would give most people second thoughts. It was this calmness in the face of any obstacle, which could only be brought on by either fanatical devotion or a willingness to die, that gave him his advantage in most fights.
She lunged and he let her, putting up a knee to block her shoulder in the last moment as her body collided with his. The force of her tackle still knocked the 150 lb fox over easily, but he fell without landing hard, rolling into it to absorb the shock. This put her on top of him, and quickly he made a move to grab her wrists and stop her from using claws on his face. With his knee between them, he kept her pushed back enough to stop her from biting.
His eyes were nothing but concentration, working hard to anticipate her next move.