ooc:This is for marsh and I only.

Prattel was in a fighting arena for a friendly competition.The prize was a season stay at a local tavern.Food,drinks,and beds were free.Prattel,hadn't a penny in his name,really needed to win this."Semi final battel everyone!"The announcer said."Please head to the arena!"Prattel headed into the arena meeting his opponent."Here I go."

Tristin strode into the arena.  He was feeling quite well, especially after a pleasant smoke and a nap in the sun.  Furthermore, the possibility of winning free lodging at the Northland’s most hospitable public house cheered him no end.  He viewed his opponent, a largish stoat, with goodwill.

“What ho there!  So it is you who I am going to scrap with, eh?  You look like a decent fellow, and I trust that there will be no hard feelings, eh?  What type of combat do you wish?  Fixed sparring, or free range?  The choice is yours, my good fellow.”

"Indeed you are!I'm Prattel Hafter good weasel sir.Who are you?Before you answer that,I do believe we are going to have a good old fashion fight!"He said in his usual louder than necessary voice."Okay here are the rules."The referee started to explain."No cheap shots,no biting,no bladed weapons,and especially no killing you got that you two?Fight until some one gives up or passes out."Prattel nodded.

Tristin counted off on his claws.  "No cheap shots, biting, blades, or killing.  Seems fair enought to me.  A good old fashioned scrap…  Like those I used to have with my siblings when only a naughty weasel kit, but on a larger scale, I suppose. "

The weasel grinned and put up his fists.  "I'm ready when you are, mate.  Good luck, and may the best one win."

"Jolly good then!"The ref put his arms between them."Fight!"Prattle jumed back a few feet."Good luck sah!"He saluted and took a fighting stace."Here we go good sah!"

"And again, the best of luck to you!"  Tristin crouched lightly on his toes, his balance low and forward toward Prattel.  He retreated slowly backwards and started to circle the larger stoat, awaiting the inevitable attack.

Pat made a low sweeping kick and followed up with a heel stomp.

Tristin's crouched position enabled him to escape the greater part of concussion from the kick.  He seized the stoat's lower leg as he stomped and twisted hard to the right, hoping that his momentum would put Prattel off his balance.

Pat twirled as his attack was countered.He did a summer salt and landed on his side."Ow!"He sprang back up,charged,and dropped kicked torward Tristin's legs.

Tristin gasped and landed on his face as the stoat kicked him heavily in the legs.  He rolled onto his back and scrambled halfway up, lunging and headbutting Prattel in the stomach, before retreating to let his adversary regain his feet.

Prattel gasp for breath as stumbled upwards."Now…..tha....that wasn't nice.I'm gonna get you."He stod upright,took a deep breath,and took a fighting stance."Bring it weasle."

OOC:  "BUT I THINKED THAT THIS WAS MMA!!!"  😄

"Er, that wasn't a cheap shot, was it?  My siblings and I used to headbutt each other whenever we quarreled… But that is immaterial, I suppose..."  He stood up, his left paw forward, facing Prattel.  "I will bring it, and with as much vim as I can muster."   He jabbed casually at his adversary's upper body in an effort to feel the stoat out.

Pat grabbed Tristin's arm,placed his hand on Tristin's shoulder,spun him,and threw him lightly."No worries.Not a cheap shot.Now if I was injured and you kicked me,THEN it would be cheap."Pat dashed forward and did a fan kick to try and stun Tristin.

Tristin hit the ground and got a mouthful of dirt.  "Drat."  He scrambled up punched Prattel on the tip of the nose, his left paw guarding his face.  "If you are not perturbed, then neither am I."

Prattel grabed his nose in pain."Ow that smarts!Am I bleeding?"He checked his hand."Nope."He looked at Tristin."I hope you like dirt,'cause you'll be eating plenty of it."He joked.He started a tackel but he triped on his foot paw and fell flat.

"Faugh.  I just ate some dirt and don't care to consume any more.  You'll have to work hard to make me eat more.  Up on you feet, stoat.  I want to win that prize, and we're getting nowhere this way."

Prattel stood up and popped his neck."Do lets,and your absolutely right.Now I'm going to start fighting."He put his arms in front of his face,charged up to Tristin,and began his close quarter combat moves.He tried a few jabs to the chest and a upper cut.

Tristin smiled.  "That's the spirit."  He blocked the jabs with his left paw and tried (with little success) to parry the stoat's uppercut.  "Unghh!"  Ignoring his throbbing jaw, he feinted with his left paw at Prattel's shoulder before delivering several swift punches to the stoat's face.

Prattel fell back stunned and wavered as he stood back up.He shook his head and stumbled torward Tristin.Prattel crouched and tackeled him against the wall.He did this two more times.

Tristin winced in pain as he was tackled two times.  As the stoat rushed him the third time, the weasel outstretched all four of his limbs and stiffened them so as to wind Prattel as he attempted his tackle.

The weasel staggered up and wiped some blood from his face, after which he pulled the stoat up by the shoulder and delivered several blows to his face.

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