She grunted. His knee slammed into her body and she felt her entire person lift off the ground for a handful of milliseconds. Buffy was so small and light; she was easily thrown and easily lifted. She tried to make up for it by clinging to that infernal club. She wondered if she just felt a rib almost-crack from the hit and wondered if she should have just let go. Just let...go.

Her fingers ungripped. She stumbled clumsily backwards and stooped for her scythe. She wanted it between them.