The morning's cold still hung heavy in the competitors' tunnel, clinging to everything like it didn't want to let go. Dominic lingered back in the shadows, arms crossed, just watching as the roar from the arena above washed over them in another wave, third standing ovation already, and the day wasn't even halfway done. Vance had just strolled off the platform, leaving Aldis crumpled there, blood still glistening where the Iron Maiden had done its brutal work. The crowd was still buzzing, trying to wrap their heads around it all.
Wobbly shifted on his shoulder, that familiar warm weight pressing in, and let out a soft little burble.
"Yeah, I know buddy," Dominic muttered, reaching up to give the little guy a gentle pat. "Two more fights before it's our turn... feels like forever."
