dont know yet, will figure it out later
A shout, a shove and all of a sudden, he was flying. A sharp impact and all of a sudden, the world stopped spinning for long enough to feel a rain of glass on his face. Amos took slow deliberate steps, calmly pushing the door open and kneeling above Marty. "wrong move little one." Grabbing him by the lapels, Amos lifted Marty from the ground and placed him on his feet, readying to throw the first punch.
A slow trickle of warm liquid fled Marty's nose, the blood trailing down his parted lips and pooling in his mouth. Laughter filled the air at the sight. Men pounding mugs of ale on their tables near the window, serving wenches holding plates of steaming food and loudest of all, Amos right in front of him. "He don't even need a punch, just a scary look." Yet the punch came all the same.