Despite loathing the thick crimson liquid decorating the mat and leaking freely down from Max's nose, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Rhiannon's calculated hits. She's a natural, she's the type of cadet that'll survive without a doubt.
On the other hand...
Max, poor Max, can't even take a wheezing breath due to the onslaught of violence, his now crooked nose is streaming with crimson blood, droplets splattering across the mat, while his face already looks to be swelling like a balloon from the lethal punches he's had to endure. 
I couldn't control the permanent grimace etched on my face as I stand idly as a bystander, observing the brutality with distaste while ninety-nine percent of my peers don't even bat an eye.
The assaulted skin around Max's eyes is already darkening with bruises, and the corners of his mouth twitch with each hit, as if he's trying to stifle a pain filled scream.
Gods, please don't ever let me get on Rhiannon's bad side.
Suddenly, she relents, stepping back as if bored- displaying only a slither of mercy, her fists lowering only slightly. 
Max stumbles, dazed, his body swaying like a leaf in the wind on the brink of losing conciousness. Rhiannon's grin never fades, not even for a fraction of a second as she tilts her head, studying him like she's deciding whether to finish the job or let him collapse on his own. 
Rhi already knows she's won.
"She makes it look easy." Violet theatrically groans in defeat as she stands next to Dain, her childhood best friend. 
It wasn't hard to tell that she was beyond nervous, the anxious shifting of her feet, the fidgeting of her hands, and the way her brows are knitted together with such perilous thought.
A pang of empathy rattles through my body as I reach a gentle hand to rub soothing circles on her back in a feeble attempt to put her at ease, even if only just a little.
"He's going to try kill you." Dain suddenly claims in a tone so serious that my jaw drops to the floor, my head swivelling to shoot a questioning look to the squad leader as my light brows furrow.
Exactly what any woman wants to hear when on the brink of a mental breakdown. Note the sarcasm.
"What?" My jaw goes slack at the abrupt statement as I follow Dain's line of sight to land on Oren, one of my brother's equally barbaric acquaintances. 
The tall cadet has a chilling bloodthirsty glint shining in his almost beady eyes as he intensely watches Violet like a predator waiting for it's perfect opportunity to strike and go in for the kill.  
I swallow hard at the unsettling view of Oren who's complexion has the barely noticeable hue of a sickly green, sizing my friend up in hopes of leaving her confidence rattled before my attention bounces over to Vi who's previous anxious ridden expression now ceases to exist. 
Instead, it's replaced by a subtle grin that tugs at the corners of her lips.
My head tilts to the side in puzzlement at the sudden shift in her stance before shrugging, as long as she's not shaking like a newborn deer then she'll be alright. 
I pray for it, for her safety, for her not to end up with a dislocated shoulder again.
Dear gods above, thank you for your guidance and help thus far but now please protect my friend.
"Your opponent. I overheard him and a few friends, they think you're a liability to the wing thanks to that Barlowe kid." Dain elaborates, his gaze hardening at the unpleasant topic.