On the other side of the lycan capital, far removed from the Queen’s exorbitant palace, was a small divot in the grass. It was surrounded by a makeshift fence, where on this particular morning, was of great importance. A crowd had gathered around the pit, men and women alike placing bets on the two beasts that were brave enough to enter the arena.
This whole thing had started the night before, as Cynthia sat by herself in her favorite bar, listening to some shitty garage band play as she drank another shot of whiskey. She was wearing her nicest outfit: a black leather jacket, with tape covering her bust.
“You’re gonna empty my bottle, dear.” Spoke Garrett, the bartender with a chuckle. He was a svelte wolf, nice gray fur shining in the neon lights of his establishment. Cynthia smiled at him.
“What can I say? A girl like me needs a drink every once in a while.”
“You’re here every day, sweetie.”
She laughed, “Well, no one ever said how long a while was.”
“I’m guessing you’d like another shot?”
“You read my mind, Gary boy.”
The bartender poured her another, watching her swallow it down with ease.
“What number are we on? Five? Six?” He said with a slightly concerned chuckle.
“Only God knows at this point.”
He gave her that signature charming grin, “Shouldn’t you be getting home? It’s starting to get late, and I hear there’s gonna be a pretty nasty storm tomorrow.”
“That’s only if you listen to that weather nut job.”
“He’s right more often than not.”
She scoffed, “Like we get tornadoes in this part of the forest.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I haven’t been yet.”
It was then when the patter of footsteps began to rattle the dingy hardwood floors, the sounds of laughter filling the space as a group of wolves entered the emptying bar, even overshadowing the band in noise level.
“Yo, barkeep! How about some drinks for my boys?”
She was a boisterous wolf, her hair a deep shade of blue. She was wearing an ill-fitting shirt, with jeans that sagged down past her waist. Her entourage seemed infatuated with her, laughing at every joke, gawking at every move. Garrett poured her some from the whiskey bottle, giving Cynthia a slight stare as he filled the shot glass. This new lycan took the seat right next to her, looking her up and down.
“Nice abs.” She said with a grin, causing her entourage to chuckle.
“Thanks.” Cynthia responded hesitantly.
“Name’s Amelia. You must be Cynthia.”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow, “I am, what’s it to you?”
“Just wanted to thank you for making all the boys scared of bitches like you and me.”
The (slightly) elder wolf laughed, “No problem, sis.”
“Y’know, I’m kinda new at this gladiator thing. I’ve been asking around, trying to get some good advice, and they all pointed me to you.”
“I ain’t a teacher.”
Amelia smiled, “I know, but some pointers from a champion can’t hurt, well, former champion.”
Cynthia huffed at that comment, “Well, what do you wanna know?”
“Everything, I guess. My first fight didn’t go too well, I ended up eating dirt. Luckily, the next couple were easy. I think the old bastard that runs the place was going easy on me.”
“Well, when the girls draw, the boys-“
“Drool.” The wolves said in unison, sharing a laugh.
“So, do you wanna help me out?” Amelia asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“Hmm… what’s in it for me?”
“Yo, Amy!” One of the burly men behind them interrupted, “We’re gonna head out!”
“Alright.”
She turned and waved before looking back at Cynthia, “Sorry about them, they’re idiots.”
“Who are they, anyway?”
“They’re my brothers. After our mom died, they started following me to places like this. I guess they think I’m some scrawny little girl who needs protecting.”
“Tell them to shove it.” Cynthia said half-joking.
“They’re just being protective. I don’t blame ‘em.” She sighed, “It’s kinda why I started fighting, to show them I’m not a little girl.”
“I guess that’s a good plan.”
“Why’d you start?”
“Hmm?”
Amelia’s eyes shone in the light, “Why’d you start fighting all those years ago?”
“I’m not that old, but anyway, I started because I had nothing to do. I was a teenage girl without a home to go back to, so I started picking fights. It turned out I was good at it, and the rest is history.”
“I just started.”
“I lost a lot too, you know?
Amelia smiled, “I guess everyone does.”
“Just gotta learn to get over it.”
“You make it sound so easy…” the navy wolf sighed.
“It’s not, but once you stop kicking your own ass every time you lose, you’ll be a lot happier.”
“You know way more than me.” Amelia ran a hand through her fur, “So, are you gonna help me or not?”
“Depends on how you want it done.”
“Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow, “Tomorrow morning? Nah.”
“You wanna spar with me?”
The slightly older wolf gave her a stare, “Ain’t it supposed to storm tomorrow?”
“What, is the champ scared of a little bit of rain~?”
“Fine, but I’m not going easy on you.”
Amelia flashed a toothy grin, “By all means, make my day.”
“Shut up.”
They both chuckled slightly, Cynthia gave the girl a slight smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
The wolves shook hands as Amelia walked out of the establishment, leaving Cynthia behind.
“A spar, huh?” The bartender interjected, “I hear you need a lot of rest for those things.”
“You really want me out of here, don’t you?”
“It’s nearly one in the morning. Go home.”
“Fine, but only because I like you.”
Garrett smiled, “If you like me then why are you leaving.”
She flipped him off with a grin, “Might wanna shut that trap before I make you my next sparring buddy.”
“Fine, fine, leave me here.”
Cynthia paid the tab, leaving a tip in her shot glass as she stood from her barstool. She waved the man goodbye before opening the door, reentering the barren city. She walked alone through the empty streets, her only companion being her own shadow. The streetlights shone an orangish yellow, coloring the grass beneath her feet; the night sky was painted with stars. She trekked the grassy paths until she made it back home, unlocking her door and taking a seat on her couch.
She didn’t sleep a lick, nor did she try to. The warrior wolf stayed up shadow-boxing or working on her punching bag, the sound of her knuckles bashing leather soothing her as she worked up a sweat. The time ticked by at a snail’s pace, minutes feeling like hours while she did everything possible to pass it by. Eventually, she laid down on her sofa, taking a quick nap before her eyes shot awake at the sound of the rain slamming against the roof, her vision shifting the clock on her wall that read seven o’clock in the morning.
The gladiatrix quickly picked herself off the couch, taking a big swig of an energy drink from her fridge before stepping out into the pounding rain, feeling it crash into her fur as she fastwalked towards the pit, mud seeping into her paws. Once she made it she found Amelia there waiting for her, her brotherly entourage surrounding her from behind the makeshift fence that bordered it.
“There you are!” She half-taunted, “I’ve been waiting all day for you.”
“How long have you been here?” Cynthia asked, panting from her walk.
“About an hour. Y’know, when I got here it wasn’t raining.”
“I overslept a bit.”
Amelia waved it off, “It’s whatever.”
As the two fighters prepared themselves for battle, a small crowd began to encircle the pit, cheering and chanting as they stared each other down one last time. Amelia looked ready, wearing her best sports bra and shorts, which stuck to her fur as the rain soaked through. Cynthia wore the same white crop-top she had on earlier, though she took off her jacket for battle. A referee was picked from the audience and brought the two fighters together, explaining to the both of them rules they already knew, or lack thereof. No holds barred, the winner is declared when one fighter cannot continue. The fighters flashed grins as they tapped knuckles.
“May the best wolf win.” Amelia smiled.
Cynthia put her fists up and the fight officially began on the sound of a gong, the gladiatrixes circling each other as they waited to find a weakness. Amelia could feel her nerves tremble as Cynthia’s fist suddenly flew towards her face, meeting the girl’s forearm. She shook it off, throwing a jab of her own that met the same fate. They circled one another some more before the red-haired lycan grabbed her foe’s hair, putting her in a quick headlock.
She slammed a knee into her gut before Amelia fought her way out, taking her opponent to the ground and trying to gain a mounted position to no avail, soon finding herself face down in the mud. Cynthia stood back up quickly, beckoning the young fighter to get back to her feet. As soon as she did, the veteran landed a stiff jab right to her cheek, causing her foe’s head to whip sideways. Amelia’s ears rang as another blow crashed into her stomach, making her spit. She staggered backwards, trying to keep her distance.
Cynthia, however, was not one to give her opponents time to rest, jumping at her again with a takedown and throwing her to the mud. Amelia landed with a thud, her head spinning before she was snapped back to reality by a vicious hook from the veteran fighter. The younger wolf put up her arms and prayed, taking most of the blows on her forearms before finally getting the energy to throw her off.
Amelia stood herself up slowly, the taste of blood filling her throat as she landed a clean hit on Cynthia’s ribcage. The red-haired wolf grunted, giving the girl a sinister smile.
“Good hit, rookie. Let’s see if you can do that again.” Cynthia snarled, throwing a missile of a punch that tore into Amelia’s jaw, spraying blood into the mud.
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The younger fighter’s head was too rattled to think, her only thoughts being regret as the gong sounded once more, allowing the warriors to take a one minute break. Amelia already looked worse for wear, her cheek beginning to swell and blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. Looking at Cynthia made her feel worse, she was practically unscathed, save for some light bruises.
“Sis, are you alright?” One of her brothers ran over, placing an ice pack against her face.
“I’m fine.”
“She’s kicking your ass!”
Amelia gave him an incredulous glare, “You think I don’t know that?!”
“Maybe you should throw in the towel, sis, I mean-“
“I’m not a pussy.”
He sighed, “Amy, you’re getting destroyed out there.”
“It’s only the first round. There’s still a lot of fight left.”
The gong rang again, Amelia exiting her corner and walking back to the middle of the ring, where Cynthia waited for her like a hawk waiting for a mouse. She threw a jab that the younger wolf blocked, then another that met a similar fate. Amelia smacked her with a hook, then a knee to her gut. Their feet splattered in the mud as they traded blows, going punch-for-punch as their knuckles began to tear. Neither fighter had an advantage as the rain poured harder above their heads, the crowd starting to get anxious.
It was Cynthia who finally made a mistake, sailing a punch too high and getting a kick to her side for her effort. She stumbled slightly, which made Amelia grin as she cuffed her cheek with a jab, sending her head spinning. Cynthia could feel the frustration boil her blood, blocking Amelia’s next attempt and countering with an uppercut that spilled the younger wolf’s blood like a fountain. The horde cheered as the untutored fighter fell to her knees, her vision blurred by the mud. She could only feel it when the veteran gladiator grabbed her chin, slamming two missiles into her jaw bone which sent her face-first into the sludge.
Amelia’s head ached, her mouth filled with the taste of dirt and blood. She managed to make it back to her knees, watching the gore pool from her mouth as she forced herself back on two feet, much to the shock of the crowd. Cynthia just laughed.
“You don’t know when to quit, do ya?”
The younger wolf shook her head, putting her fists up in a defensive stance. She blocked Cynthia’s haymaker and responded with a kick that landed perfectly on her temple, rattling the redhead as she stumbled back towards the edge of the pit. A cut opened above the veteran’s right eye, crimson dripping down her face as she tried to recover from the precise blow. Amelia took quick advantage, kicking up ooze as she swept the elder fighter’s legs out from beneath her, causing her to crash against the earth.
The younger warrior tried to straddle her but was met with fierce resistance, Cynthia shoving her off with her paw.
“You do kicks, eh?” She panted.
“I’m a bit all over the place.”
Cynthia flashed a grin, “Then I guess I’d better watch my back.”
Amelia beckoned her forward, “I’d watch your front first, bitch.”
The redhaired wolf obliged, dashing at her and clawing her fur before she could even respond. She then punched her in the ribs as hard as she could; Amelia tried to block the oncoming onslaught, but found herself defenseless while Cynthia chased her around the pit, landing quick blows until she slipped in the sludge, falling on her ass to the delight of the crowd. It was then when the gong rang to end the second round, the fighters locking eyes as they returned to their corners for another sixty seconds.
Cynthia strutted back to her side, leaning against a nearby tree as the crowd reached in to feel her sweaty, muddy fur. Her adrenaline was through the roof, her instincts on high alert. Her whole body shook with tension as she waited for the next round to start, giving Amelia blood-soaked glares from across the trench. Her opponent could feel every punch that hit her, her shorts covered in sludge as she sat on a stool, waiting for another chance to fight back.
The gong sounded again, Amelia quickly putting her guard up in anticipation of an oncoming blow. Cynthia, however, kept her distance, playing mind games with her inexperienced foe. The younger wolf threw a jab to test the waters, but it was dodged and countered with a jab to her cheekbone, causing a sizable scuff to form on her fur. She blocked her opponent’s next attempt, but Cynthia quickly feigned a left before drilling Amelia’s snout with a hook, bending it slightly as spray spilled on the mud.
The younger fighter tried to regain her composure, throwing a well-placed hook to Cynthia’s jawbone before trying to take the fight to the ground, but that was blocked by a knee to her gut. Amelia coughed as her opponent’s leg collided with her ribs, then an uppercut slammed into her solar plexus, causing her to double over. Her vision was blurred by the mud as she fell to her knees, watching her blood and snot mix into the sludge, feeling the rain crash against her back as the referee counted to six, watching her finally stand back up.
The crowd was getting restless now, beginning to throw money into the ring in the hopes of enticing the fighters to kill each other. Cynthia bared her canines as Amelia wobbled, the younger fighter trying to shake the pain away. Her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her awake as she threw a jab at her veteran opponent, only to end up eating a roundhouse that sent her back down to the dirt. The referee began to count again, but the elder fighter told him to stop.
“Might as well put an end to this.” She commented to herself.
Cynthia placed a knee on Amelia’s back, then rolled her over for a triangle choke. The younger wolf resisted for a moment but it didn’t take long before she was rendered unconscious by the hold, the referee ending the fight right then and there. The veteran fighter let go of the hold as soon as the bell rang, sitting beside her fallen foe while the horde chanted her name. She didn’t celebrate, taking in the cheers from the ground before the mob dispersed, taking the ref and his crew with them. Eventually, all that remained in the arena’s vicinity was her and the still sleeping Amelia, whose face was planted in the sludge.
She sat there for what felt like hours, watching the rain fall from the leaves and feeling the cold air breathe through her fur. Her adrenaline had started to wane, every strike she gave and took started to sting throughout her body, her eyes shifting down to her bloody knuckles. Pretty soon, however, she began to hear the sound of a pained groan. Amelia’s body slowly began to shuffle around in the mud, trying to get back on all fours. Her attempts were unfruitful, as the slick slush stopped her still somnolent body from situating itself.
“Need some help?” Cynthia spoke up, reaching out a hand, which her mud-soaked foe stared at.
“Tha…nks…”
“It’s nothing.”
Amelia rubbed her nose, “Ugh…”
“What? Never been punched before?”
The younger wolf chuckled, “I’ve been hit plenty. You just hit like a truck.”
Cynthia laughed, “I get that a lot.”
“You kicked my ass.”
“Welcome to the real world.”
Amelia let out a pained groan, “Like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I knew I was probably gonna lose, but jeez… you made me look like a chump.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much now.”
“I mean, c’mon, did I even stand a chance!”
Cynthia wiped some blood off her face, showing it to the younger fighter before it washed off in the rain. “You see that? That’s blood. Not a lot of people can say they’ve done that to me.”
“I guess.”
“You guess? I’m giving you the proof right here.”
“I haven’t seen all of your fights.”
The elder wolf sighed, “Kid, you lost, yeah, but you did damn well doing it. You’ll get better, it just takes a lot more time than the movies say it does.”
“I guess so.”
“Just keep fighting. Fight everyone who’s willing to go against you. That’s how I did it, I fought boys, girls, humans, wolves, anyone who’d show up. Got me extra cash, which got me some time in the gym, and everything grew from there.”
Amelia laughed, feeling the rain run through her sticky fur. “God, I wish. My brothers would kill me.”
“Why do you care what they say? You’re trying to make a career here, not them.”
“They’re the only family I’ve got left, y’know? Gotta put some stock in what they say.”
Cynthia wrapped an arm around her, “You want to know a secret?”
“Sure.”
“You’re a fighter, no one who cares about you will support you. They’ll tell you it’s too violent, that you’ll get yourself killed, and it’s not because they’re trying to stop you from doing what you love, they just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cause you will get hurt.” The veteran smiled, “But, if it’s what’s calling ya, you can’t stop it.”
“I… had a lot of fun doing this.”
Cynthia gave her a stare, “You felt a rush?”
“Yeah.”
“I remember my first big opponent, she was a champion, fought every legend in the book, even in the big arena. She killed me, beat me halfway to Sunday and relished in embarrassing me, just like every other young challenger she had.”
Amelia looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “Why’re you telling me this?”
Cynthia chuckled, “You remind me of me, back when I was a rookie.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
The younger wolf looked down at her blood dripping into the mud, “I just want to get the money.”
“Sounds like a good reason to me. I ain’t one of those purist types.”
“I have my brothers to support, and my grandparents, and not to mention my nephews…”
“Just keep fighting. You’ll get there.”
Cynthia stood from her seat in the mud, wiping herself off slightly as the rain did some of the work for her.
“Where are you going?” Amelia asked with a hint of child-like wonder.
“I’m going to Garrett’s, getting something to drink. You wanna come with?”
The younger wolf thought about it, “No thanks, I should get home and get a shower.”
“Alright.” Cynthia put her bloodied hand for her former foe to shake, “‘Til we fight again.”
“‘Til we fight again.”
The veteran fighter shook her hand, waving goodbye as blood dripped down her hand, her silhouette disappearing into the darkness of the rain. Cynthia walked back towards town, her paws squishing the mud beneath her feet as the rain began to falter. The city was beginning to bustle some, its early risers performing their routines. The local coffee shop’s line was out the door like usual, the library had its first readers coming in, and the local bartender had just awakened, groggily sweeping the floor until he heard a knock on the door.
“Cynthia?” He yawned as he opened it, revealing her on the other side, “Dear lord, what time is it?”
“‘Bout 9 in the morning.”
“Oh, Cynthia, I don’t open for another two hours.”
She smiled, “You’re awake, aren’t ya?”
“Barely.”
Cynthia gave him a twenty she had stashed in her pocket, “This enough for early entry, Mr. Bartender Man?”
“Considering you almost drank a whole bottle last night, you’ll need to do better than a measly twenty.”
“Gary…”
The bartender looked her over, “And you look disgusting! I just swept and mopped last night, and you’re covered in mud and dried blood and god knows what else.”
“One drink, that’s all.”
“Cynthia…”
She gave him the puppy dog eyes, “Pwease…~”
“Fine.” He caved with a sigh and a grin, “One drink, but you stay out there.”
“Whatever you say, barkeep.”
She watched him walk over to the counter, pouring her a tall glass of scotch and bringing it up to her.
“Happy now?”
She licked her chops, “You always know how to make a girl happy, Garrett.”
“Why are you up this early anyway?”
“Had a fight with that Amelia chick, remember? Crack of dawn?”
He sighed, “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“That's why I’m all bloody and muddy too.”
“I could make my inferences.”
She took another sip of her drink, “That girl’s good, a bit green, but she’s good.”
“You’re the expert.”
“She got some good hits in, could take some too. Bitch might have a career ahead of her if she keeps working.”
Garrett grinned at her, “Teaching the next generation, are we?”
“Jeez, what is it with everyone calling me old?”
“26 is ancient for a fighter.”
“Not really.”
He grabbed his broom off the ground, returning to sweeping. “Most girls are married by that age, me and Cindy were.”
“You were in the army, there’s a difference.”
Garrett shrugged, “Not by much, fighting circles and military circles are very similar. Besides, I got into my fair share of fistfights.”
“You did, huh?”
“I was undefeated.” He shined a charismatic smile.
“Well then, Mr. Big Shot, what do you say to a spar?”
“These old bones couldn’t go the distance anymore. You’d have me out in two minutes.”
Cynthia flashed a fang, “Then why don’t we make it a challenge? If you can make it two minutes with me, I’ll buy drinks for everyone tonight.”
“You just fought someone and you’re already itching for another?”
“What can I say? I’m a busy gal.”
He sighed, “Maybe this evening.”
“Maybe’s close.”
“Maybe is all you’re getting.”
She finished her glass with a big swig, “Aw… you’re no fun.”
“I’m plenty of fun!”
“Yeah, when you’re serving drinks.”
“When am I not?”
Cynthia laughed, “Ain’t that the truth.”
“You’re the one knocking on my door at nine in the morning.”
“I was in town.”
He shook his head, “Why don’t you go about your day?”
She playfully scoffed, placing the twenty in her glass and setting in the doorway. “My day is gonna be taking a shower, then coming back here to see if you’ll make it two minutes in the ring with little ol’ me.”
“Still better than standing in my doorway sopping wet, which you’re bringing into the bar, by the way.”
She stepped backwards, “Sorry, your majesty.”
“Just go.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
Cynthia waved him goodbye as she took the trek back to her house, the raindrops turning to mist. People stared at her as she walked past them on the street, but she didn’t care all too much, humming a tune while the world passed her by, or more accurately, while she passed by the world. She soon made it back to her own home, unlocking the door and seeing it exactly as she left it, mess and all. She wiped her feet on the greeting mat before walking into the bathroom, stripping off her fighting clothes and taking a long, warm shower, alleviating her pain slightly.
The rest of her day was filled with rest and relaxation, wel, except for her evening trip to Garrett’s where she had a boxing match with the bartender, who gave her that signature charming grin as she hit him in the gut so hard he nearly threw up his lunch.
“Free drinks for all y’all!” She shouted in victory as he crumbled, that grin turning to a look of shock as she flung her arms out wide, but that was a problem she could deal with tomorrow.
Today was a good day.