Small and quick, damn. York steps back and brings his hands up- the catch connecting with his wrist but the depth perception he's got limited so he skids and misses at the elbow, clasping at Mal's bicep when his eye finally gets with the program. Not enough force like this to stop the blow or even divert it, Mal's hand impacts with a grunt as he adjusts his grip to the initial attempt in the first place.

Putting his shoulders into it he twists, snapping a knee up at Mal's ribs.