Tonight's the big night, I ready to fight with every particle of my being. It is only 5:27, and the festival starts at 7:30, but I could no longer distract myself with practicing anymore. I was ready and roaring (not literally roaring, I am not old enough to have developed my roar). From 5:30 to 7:00 I went over to help the other cats get the food and decorations ready. Once 7:00 hit, I was dashing on over to the fighter's locker room, it is tradition to make your heritage's head to represent your bloodline and pride. I made mine as realistic as my dreams were, careful to size it perfectly to see out of the eye holes, and to make sure it wasn't a hassle when throwing a punch or kicking. Once I finished mine, I watched my competitors, I know most of them. I sized each one up, trying to find a possible weakness. I found few, turns out pregame judging is not my specialty.

They called us one by one, lining each of us up at a different entrance to the ring, kind of like way back in prehistoric days of the Collosum. The ushers looked more afraid of us then their bosses yelling at them, which surprised me since they were in the 8-12 range.

Once I got called into the rink, I was the last one called in, which is not uncommon since I am extremely young, I shoved my mask on, and walk confidently out. My opponent wore a lion's mask, no major surprise that a lion made it to the end, they always seemed to be hogging all the glory, but this is where his glory ended, it was my turn. His left arm was bleeding, clumping up his fur. I made a mental note that he must be slower with his left. We danced around in a circle, waiting for the horn to blow, giving the cue to attack.

HONK!

That is our cue, though neither of us attacked, I don't know about the lion, but I had learned the art of playing defense, then shocking them with a hard blow after they are tired.

"You tired yet lion?" I dared.

"Never!" He yelled as he sprang into action.

I know most cats cannot resist the questioning of one's strength. The lion proved it. He was wildly running towards me as if he was a bull, I easily sidestepped him, getting a cheer from the crowd, and making him look stupid. Again, he barreled towards me, this time I merely jumped over him (a cat can jump 4 times the length of his tail). Frustrated he spun around kicking, I took a step out of reach, I was toying with him, which actually put a smile on my face, I am usually the one who is toyed with, not the other way around. He staggered back regaining his balance from his kick, I took this time to come up close, I punched him in the stomach, then danced back a step. He doubled over, so I took this opportunity to throw some punches at his head. The lion lost his balance, falling backwards he hit his head against the ground, I kept punching until I realized he blacked out.

I had won, this is what I had always dreamed of, what I had been training for my whole life. I got off the lion, standing up proudly, I asked the crowd. "Does anyone else dare to challenge me?"

"Me." Someone with a jaguar mask comes out of the tunnel and into the rink.