Dmitri brings a hand up to block, but, go figure, Thane isn't having any of that. Her head snaps down and back, an involuntary noise of pain twisting out of her throat as her vision starbursts, and she loses her footing and rattles down the pipe before she can balance.

Fucking – goddamnit. Still, it's not like she's never been punched before. Usually it's not enough to slice open both of her lips on her teeth, and usually she's more sure than she is now that her incisors aren't any looser than they were, but at least she's got the adrenaline thing going, now, and she hauls herself back up the pipe once the world's returned to the correct color-balance and sniffs.

There's enough air in her lungs to cough, at least. Which she does, with as much force as she can, directly at Thane's face, showering him with globs of spittle and blood before sagging back against the wall.

"You didn't answer my questions."