In the heat of a fight you’re the storm and the thunder – you strike first, but you also watch how the wind shifts. I use my tribe’s instinct to feel when a foe’s guard drops, then swing with the full weight of my fists. If I see a chance, I cut through and then step back to bait the enemy into a trap. Discipline is the rhythm of my blows; raw power is the thunder. Keep the rhythm and the thunder will follow.

Thanks, brother. I’ll keep my fists tight and my mind open, like a drumbeat that never stops. When the storm comes, I’ll be the one setting the rhythm.