Buffy was okay -- good, even -- up until Gregor went for her throat. Although they were well-healed now, the last week had seen dark and unhealthy bruises around her neck from when the General had met her with the same move. From when he'd pinned her there and sank his blood into her veins.

Her desire to not be caught by the throat inspired more strength in her muscles. Her head bobbed down; she ducked. She pushed much of her might first into resisting his twist and second into hauling him up, off the ground, and over her shoulder. He, she hoped, would be the one on the ground. Not her.

The throw was clumsily started but it had the benefit of being powerful.