sophia smith beavo

There were four rounds remaining, and only sixteen combatants. Before the fighting could resume, there was a brief intermission. Daniel was giving another performance, and as the music played, Noah went to see Saimallah.“Here,” he said, handing back the monk’s headband.“Too much for you, huh?”

Noah’s next target then stepped out, Abner. He was another young man with that same glint of determination in his eyes and a sword on his belt. He had won the hearts of many spectators with his willpower, getting knocked down countless times, but always standing back up. There was a lot of money riding on him. His enemy also stepped out, a larger, older man sporting long hair woven into braids.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.