She recovers from his pivot deftly enough, admiring his speed, but having her ponytail grabbed comes as a surprise and her chin tips back sharply. It's only a small sound that escapes her, almost a grunt, barely audible. The grip she gets on his bare skin after the delayed collision of their bodies proves that she is much stronger than her slender frame might suggest.

It's smart of him to pull at her hair, she thinks - a good opponent must see an opportunity and take it.

Despite her angling neck, she does her best to press on and lock them in a temporary stalemate, even if their bodies curve against the hold they have on each other to make it look a bit as though she's about to dip him at the end of an overly dramatic ballroom dance. Her leg stays inconveniently between his - as long as they're entangled it feels better to her to be positioned lower, harder to potentially lift. This time she attempts to lead with the foot that planted behind him, inching it forward in the sand and then pushing ahead to drag him with her. It isn't the charging momentum she prefers but it should earn a few steps.