Leonardo DeGartie was having a rather... rough fight at the moment. He shoved his sweaty blond hair out of his face as he circled his prey. No, not his opponent. His prey. This was why he loved fighting. His primal instincts took over at the first surge of adrenaline and he set his eyes on the prize. Knock out the man trying to best him and then he had won. With this primal surge came the mind tricks he would play. "Playing with his food" as the audience chanted. He was also known as King of the Jungle due to his catlike nickname, Leo.
But, with his love for fighting came his hate for it. He hated the primal surge he got, because, once it was in place, it was in place. He would have to be pulled from his prey once he had downed it. Another reason for his nickname. He cocked his head at his prey, watching, waiting for him to make a mistake. The mistake came quickly, just a simple drop in a fist, opening up his gut. It was enough. He lunged, attacking with fierce jabs that had the man buckling over and finished off with a karate chop to the base of the skull. His prey crumpled to the ground and he growled, watching for any movement.
He was shocked out of his primal thoughts as a horn sounded, signaling the end of the round. He blinked, looking at the ref. He half flinched as the man grabbed his arm without the thinking and thrust it into the air. The crowd gasped and Leo gave the ref a flat look. When the ref looked back at Leo, he had raised his eyebrow and his eyes took on a fierce glint. The ref chuckled nervously and dropped his arm, wincing as it smacked his side. Leo simply smirked and mock saluted the crowd, which had begun to cheer once again, and made his way to the changing rooms. He was done for the night. And now he was tired, coming down from his adrenalin rush. Groaning, he stretched and grabbed his stuff.
He slipped into his street clothes, grabbed his gym bag and his keys, and sauntered out into the dimly lit parking lot. He looked around briefly, missing anyone that may have been standing there. He was to tired to take note of just about anything, but he figured he was safe. No one had it out for him that he knew of. At least, no one that had been at the arena that night. Shrugging to himself he began to put his gym bag in the saddle bag of his motorcycle, thinking to himself, Well, no one's out here anyway... Oh how wrong he was.
Quote:
Dragon Queen Seirya
