With the takeover going on, Gwen had found herself drawn to the worn out punching bags hanging from an abandoned cabin, something to take her mind off of her own failures so far.

There was something calming about flesh meeting the rough texture of the material, one paw hitting it after another, more trying to exert a specific amount of force, rather than trying to overpower her 'opponent' through brute strength. She didn't have the raw strength or stamina for that, relying more on speed.

A well-placed hit on the forehead, for example, could easily with enough force, cause a concussion, and other injuries to limit opponents could be placed at the sternum, the ribs, or the jaw.

So there she was, taking her anger out on the punching bag, rather than actual Pittians.