The Wolf of the Wilds

The Winner

Her back hit the wooden panel, hands splayed across the coarse grain. Behind her the audience cheered, yelled and screamed. Some pounded their fists against the stands, while other stamped their feet. Fight. Fight. Fight. That was what they said.

The second round had been easy, and she'd needed less than a minute to win the match against the vampire. One well aimed kick did it. Adrian had just about scraped his way into the next fight, but the days of poor nutrition and lack of sleep had worn him down. He likely wouldn't make it past the next fight.

Helena's gaze focussed in on the werewolf opposite her. A woman, from one of the northern packs of Wye judging from her smell and the pattern tacked onto her sleeve. Short, but muscled. Murky brown hair cut short at her ears. Helena didn't move from the wall as she tried to read her opponent. How could someone so small make it into the third round? Not luck. Not with a face so filled with quiet confidence.

"Are you just going to stand there?" the wolf said, tilting her head to the side and barring her teeth. A taunt.

Helena stepped forward, staying low and centred. "I'm not one for idle distractions. If you want to play mind games with me, then you are talking to the wrong wolf." She didn't allow herself to take the bait, slipping into a neutral place. Fighter's like this one knew how to play the ring. Their size was viewed as a disadvantage by most but looks could easily be deceptive.

A particularly loud yell drew her attention for a single moment and that was all the time Helena needed. Ducking down, she grabbed a handful of sand, flicking her wrist up as the wolf looked back towards her. Somehow, she managed the dive away just as Helena struck out with a sharp kick.

"Playing dirty?" She spat on the ground to clear her mouth, wiping at her eyes before sending Helena a sneer.

A moment later, Helena had to dodge to avoid a fist that came flying towards her chin.

"Somewhat," she returned with a slight smirk, again finding her strike hit nothing but air. They continued to trade blows. Nothing landed. The closest either got was when Helena's fingers grazed the woman's stomach.

Having parted from the tussle, they stood off again, chests heaving. A sheen of sweat on their exposed skin. Her opponent was noticeably riled, her eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

"You're fast," she said, taking a deep breath to still the aching of her lungs.

"So are you," Helena commented in return. She wasn't as tired, but it was still impressive to see a pack wolf with such stamina.

She could see the wolf grow more agitated the longer she stood there, the roar of the crowd becoming more and more deafening with each heartbeat. Not a second more passed before they started fighting with renewed vigour. The wolf managed to catch hold of Helena's shirt, roughly pulling her forward. Lena moved with it, using the momentum to smash forehead into nose.

Reeling back, the woman fell, dragging Helena with her.

As the whistle blew, both where on the ground. The other woman clutched at her nose, yelling vicious profanities, while Helena pushed herself to her knees. Her head was throbbing from where it had hit the ground. Through blurred vision she saw her name added to the final fight, most of the joy overshadowed by pain.

Adrian went up against the ring campion in his next fight and it lasted a full minute before a well-aimed right hook snapped his head around as if he were a doll. Helena watched the fight through a scorching headache, the noises sending pain dancing across her skull. She winced when the final blow landed, walking over to the door as Adrian was helped from the ring by two burly men clad in straight black attire.

His expression was crumpled, a bruise already blooming on his cheek.

"Well I'm out, but at least you're still in the running," he said, gingerly sitting himself down on the bench beside her.

Helena shook her head, stopping when a dizzying hurt told her it was an awful idea.

"I hit my head. A mild concussion perhaps, but it doesn't bode well for the next fight. Go see if you can find the others and tell them not to bet on me this round. It might also be worth asking around and finding out where this guy lives just in case we have to stage a robbery to get the blade." Her voice was stretched out like linen left to dry, strained and uneven.

Adrian placed his hand atop her shoulder, squeezing it firmly.

"I will. Do your best out there and stay safe," he said in reply, voice quiet.

"My safety isn't a priority right now. I will do whatever possible to get it back. You understand?"

Adrian met her gaze and then glanced away.

"Yes, I understand. Even so, do your best to stay safe. There are always other options." They didn't speak much more after that, separating moments later. Helena tried to clear the haze from her mind, but it was a futile effort.

With her fingers in her ears and her eyes squeezed shut, she almost missed the announcer call her up for the final round. Standing, she took the short journey back out onto the ring. This time everything seemed too much. The noises were like knives against ceramic. The smells stinging like burning hair. The light like the southern sun at midday. Her stomach swayed, a thick feeling of nausea lapping at her throat.

"Just one more fight," she whispered.

The campion faced her, his face slightly more bruised than before. Blood stained his knuckles, but something told Helena that it wasn't his own. When they began, it was like watching a dance between an enraged buffalo and a rather exasperated snake. Helena spent far more time dodging than attempting to strike, her reflexes somewhat dampened by her head injury.

Defeat.

Little more needed to be said. She lost the round, earning a split lip and a mouth full of the harsh tang of blood for her effort.

Siduri made an appearance as the winner was announced, her eyes glittering with untamed amusement. The nutter. She shook both their hands as they exited the ring, holding onto Helena for a moment longer than necessary.

"I hope your future exploits go well," she said, sending a look towards the campion's back. Helena couldn't think of an answer. The vampire's star fighter would likely be dead by dawn, but Siduri didn't seem to care in the slightest. "Send Herra my regards." With that, she moved away humming under her breath.