Box with her. She’ll hit hard, but she’s slow and her technique may be sloppy.

You mirror Dinah’s test-of-strength stance and move in toward her as though you plan to accept, but at the last moment before she grabs your hands, you yank them back and slam a punch into her solar plexus. She reels back, coughing and gasping, and you’re able to snap off one to the gut and another to the face while she’s still getting her guard up.

“Okay then,” she says, smarting from the blows. “You wanna make it like that? Fine. Careful what ya wish for, newbie.” She raises her fists and stalks toward you, intent on dishing out a beating much worse than the one she received.