— ZORYN —
The first bout starts with a gong loud enough to be heard in the next valley over.
Two fighters come out onto the sand. One is from a feline tribe, though it's hard for me to tell which one in particular—maybe a panther of sorts—and the other is a one-horned earth-beast. The entire audience surges forward as one, our excitement palpable.
The horn sounds, and the match begins.
I can hear shouts echoing off the stone walls, and different groups are already cheering and chanting for their favorites.
Roan leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Oooh, that cat's fast."
I narrow my eyes and scrutinize the feline shifter. He's definitely lithe, and I bet he'd be able to escape most people with speed alone… but the way he's carrying himself in the fight gives away his inexperience.
"Fast doesn't mean smart," I mutter.
Right on cue, the feline overcommits. The horned fighter ducks, slams a shoulder into his ribs, and sends the poor guy skidding across the arena.
