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“Mmnnggh…” Came rumbling out of Leon's throat, his attention rapt, his focus undivided.
The spectator stands were full and the match underway - from his place in the Reserves Box, he could see the battlefield well along with the duelists upon it, scrapping elegantly, locked in combat.
What a wonderful day for such a wonderful view.
A tag-team royale was on today’s schedule, two teams of two facing off. Wolf’s partner for the day, Link, sat behind Leon. Leon barely looked at him, but when he did, the young man seemed bored and uninterested. Probably due to the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be fighting today, as Wolf would surely destroy both this current opponent and the next! Wolf only ever stepped back from a fight or let himself lose when he had grown bored himself, Leon figured. He was not a brawler himself, merely a guest here to show support and therefore allowed back here, but what a thrill it was, being so up close to Wolf as he worked so elegantly, fluidly, death on legs….
Leon lay in wait, observing behind the glass of the Reserves Box the way his partner all but toyed with their enemies. Captain Falcon might have speed on his side, but a thick-headed human like that could never contend on the same level as Lord Wolf O’Donnell, who manipulated every aspect of the battlefield so fluidly, saw through his opponents and knew of their weaknesses, and struck hard and true with maximum devastation.
“So powerful,” Leon murmured, enraptured, eyes locked on to Wolf and the way he leapt over Captain Falcon to slam the heel of his boot downward, a steep arc that the human - by some luck - dodged and rolled away from. The ground surely had cracks in it after such a blow! Link yawned next to him and scooted down in his seat, crossing his arms. Leon’s tail flicked dismissively toward him before coiling upward in interest at the fight alone. “Such strength, such ease in which he fights… I cannot help but be envious!”
Oh yes. If only he could get closer, feel the adrenaline and taste the electricity in the air himself. Perhaps next year, next time these little get-togethers asked for participants, he would have to sign up. To fight alongside Wolf… to fight against Wolf… what a colourful time it could be…
The enormous screen above the stadium stands showed percentages ticking higher, one moreso than the other, and Leon beamed with something like pride.
Falcon leaped, aiming to strike with his knee, only for it to be dodged, an arm hooking under it and suddenly Falcon was grappled, thrown to the floor, Wolf locking him into place with a firm grip.
“Excellent, just excellent,” Leon spoke aloud, smirking, hands coming to the rail beneath the window as he leaned in - as if he could all but sink through the glass to be right there in the arena himself, help keep Falcon down, bask in Wolf's raw power and the thrill of a hunt. Leon licked his lips, barely wanting to blink as the clutch was broken and Captain Falcon shoved Wolf away - they circled each other for a moment, like sharks, like a comet around a black hole, before they clashed again, both jumping at one another, aiming punches for each other's faces. Such raw might! “To be locked into a fight such as this, to see such unbridled wrath…”
Wolf was something else. Always had been and always will be. How lucky Leon was to be permitted to be so close! And if only he could be closer….
Trapped behind the glass, some internal part of him went a little wild, mimicking the way Wolf himself fought. Leon longed to be able to smell the scent of the fight, to taste the feel of armour and leather and sweat in the air, to bear the aches of bruises and revel in the burn of fatigue despite success. Excitement rippled through his scales and brewed low in his stomach - increasing by the second, especially as Wolf pounced, stocky leg extended to kick out and the powerful floodlights from above made the leather of his protective armour gleam and shine.
“To be confined so, to be restricted and yet so strong, so fluid… the sensation of fighting like this must be memorable,” A depthy rasp threatened the back of his throat and Leon swallowed it back. He was fine! Just fine. Merely engrossed in such an incredible fight. Link, nearby, glanced at him and said nothing still. Which suited Leon fine - if he did decide to say anything, Leon likely wouldn’t listen to it anyway. As Wolf moved and slid, scratched, parried, Leon’s eyes were drawn only to that shine, the earthy luster of his trousers. “W-what a display! Truly I must endeavour to take part, next time.”
He could feel eyes on him - the long-eared elf boy was eyeing him up suspiciously. Leon didn’t care. He thought more on being restricted, the act of being bound and tied, the struggle, the way a deep breath would feel and shoot bliss to the brain as soon as you were free. To be wrapped in leather, the way Wolf’s legs were now….
A punch landed, the human catching Wolf’s midriff with a strong hook; Wolf doubled over around it, the breath knocked out of him, and Leon’s own chest felt tight.
“Cheap tactics and weak blows… don’t rise to it, Star Wolf, bite that man’s arm clean off and prove how meaningless his attacks are!”
A shove back, and the duellists separated for a moment, forced back by their own blows, catching their breath for just a moment. The crowd roared around them, assuredly as enamoured with Wolf’s showmanship as Leon was, is, always had been. Falcon rallied himself, shaking himself down before charging, arm drawing back, an all out attack that saw flames begin to spiral around his arm - the punch was thrown, but it was all for naught. A duck and a weave, Wolf slipping under the extended arm only to kick sharply, cracking the metal tips of his clawed boot directly into Falcon’s sternum. The human wheezed and spluttered, stumbling backward, only to receive an elbow directly to the back of his neck and an ankle hooking around his own in quick succession, making him drop to the arena floor.
“Such artful form, such devious cunning…!”
One of Wolf’s ears twitched, something that happened when he was irritated - oho, surely he had to be holding himself back! Such a keen fighter, a model warrior; his blood must be pumping hot in his veins, each muscle screaming to be used more, hit harder, for the leader of Star Wolf to bite down and tear that man apart into shreds! Leon couldn't help but giggle to himself at the idea - safety regulations were in place here, there would be no dire casualties nor any damage done that could not be reversed and undone, but what a thought it was, their leader storming through all these worthless wretches and leading a blood trail behind, standing victorious over the strongest of the strong.
“Oh, yes… such a magnificent display… tear them to shreds, Wolf, reign supreme over them…”
The final blow was a treat to see - Wolf bared his teeth, a vision of vivid white and bloodthirst, and charged forward with the force of a runaway starship with his first drawn low and shoulder back - sharp and upward, a sucker punch that snapped sharp into Falcons jaw, a rapid blow with the strength of a bullet and the precision to match. Knees hit the floor, and Captain Falcon was downed to the sound of a blaring sound pounding out from claxons above - the screen with the percentages flashed, and it was a firm victory. Wolf drew himself to his full height, back heaving with breath and spitting out a half-shot of blood, fur ruffled and fangs out.
“Perfection.” Leon purred, tail flicking back and forth in satisfaction. “Utter delectability.”
Beyond the window, Leon could see Wolf put a finger to his own ear, stood still beside his panting.
Suddenly, Leon’s own earpiece crackled to life, and a familiar voice came through, raspy and strained from exertion.
“Leon,” Wolf growled. “You do realise I can hear you?”
“Well good. I was worried I’d have to speak louder.”
Across the pitch, the door to the opposite team's Reserve area opened, the next contender about to arrive, and Wolf simply shot a look through the window of their own, eyes narrow at Leon as he gave a little huff. Leon merely smirked back at him, and prepared to watch the rest of the performance.