[ Something pulls her mouth upward, almost a smile. ]

Yeah, actually. [ Well. ] A bit tighter under — you want to hit with your knuckles, not the flats of your fingers. Also — [ she steps forward and if he doesn't pull away, she'll use her demonstrating hand to gently pull his wrist, aligning his fist with his foreearm and angling the wrist slightly down. ]

Start aligned but pointed down. And then you just, y'know, swing. Don't wind it up, but do follow through. [ glancing up, she searches his face for comprehension. ]

[ She remembers lunging for the boy, the way her hand vibrated from the improper swing, how he knocked her to the ground. How she had to fight dirtier than she intended to turn the tables.

This isn't too high stakes, being in a simulation. All Rhys has to do is loosen the bars, enough to pull a piece out or dislodge a gap big enough for a tiny gal. ]