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"Ladies and Gentlemen, all walks of life, we have another piece of fresh meat on our hands!"
The sound of roaring crowds echoed through the underground society. The pit, or as The Regent called it, "The Hellgate", was alive and bustling with the usual crowd. Members of this society roared for blood, to see entertainment, to see their reigning champion crush another unfortunate insect into the dirt. The large arena was sandy-floored, with steep walls that prevented escape. Crowds of people sat in stands and chairs, with the Regent himself present for this battle in particular.
Nausicca stood, unmoving, behind a gate. Heavy chains were wrapped around her neck and wrists, firmly holding her in place. For now. She chewed her cud, as she always did, listening to the announcer hype everyone up. *Gods above, get it over with!* She inwardly roared. She wanted to get out there. Her fists were itching for blood.. for survival. She spat to the side, her tail lashing in irritation. Pests were buzzing, crowd was loud, and all she could see was that damn red. That sensory overloading red, the kind they made her wear, the kind they made the walls, the banners.. they knew how much it disoriented her, surely.
She snorted and pounded one hoof-foot into the ground, impatiently slamming her body into the gate. The crowd shouted to her, roaring approval of the incredibly violent and irritated bull woman. Her ears hurt. Her head hurt. Everything hurt- that god-damned *red*!
Nausicca slammed her head into the bars, ramming into them with an intense charge. She snorted and spat out the rest of her cud, just as the chains were unclasped and the gate rose. The light, the fires, the crowd, the noise.. blood was still splattered on the sand from yesterday. Would it kill them to clean once in a while? Her attention was stolen by a flash of red in the corner of her eye.
And there, she made eye contact with her opponent. you.
*Pathetic, really..*
They must have been kidnapped, or sold. This wasn't voluntary. They stood with a faulty weapon, only dressed in a thin tunic, trousers and a red cape. *That same. Damn. Red*. Her hoof pounded into the ground and she scraped the sand, her breathing becoming unsteady. Everything was overwhelming. She felt tortured, trapped, she had to live. Survival. Kill or be killed.
As soon as the word was given, the gladiator charged at full power, her head lowered and horns freshly sharp.
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