Maybe so; she got too close. It's the sad reality of attacking close range and he only drew a little blood. Abby registers the wound as much as she would a paper cut as she yanks her mace out the chest of the Venatori that had been holding on it for her.

"You're telling m— oh shit—"

The silvery little blade quivers with the movement of his muscle. Abby hisses, doesn't it hurt? "Stop, you're wounded."