Gallus and Smolder both stood in the section of their friend group's Treehouse that they named the training room. The only thing currently lighting it up had been the lucid crystals in the wall, but as of right now, it was pretty much enough for the two of them to keep training.
The griffon stood behind the punching bag Smolder was rocketing heavy punches at, moving in a circular motion to prevent his friend from getting comfortable with her position. In his mind, he was Smolder's coach; always looking out for her to better herself at what she does. He knew she was always into fighting since birth. Pretty much every dragon was. But Gallus knew that this kind of thing was a passion only Smolder had, and he didn't even know any other dragons. Well, besides Spike, but he was irrelevant.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow--" Gallus grunted as he felt Smolder's rock hard blows straight through the dark red punching bag he was holding. The sharp thwips of her boxing gloves hitting the punching bag made music to her ears.
She'd never admit this aloud, -well, she would- but Smolder loved to fight. The feeling of her knuckles hitting something bare, heavy, or consisting of something sapient just made her blood rush. And although it normally went against all she learned at the School of Friendship, she loved expressing dominance over other creatures.
Normally, she only expressively enjoyed it when it was someone against her, or her friends. True, she'd never hurt a creature for no reason. That really would've went against anything she had learned at the school.
Still, the thought of being next to someone that had been doing the very same thing since birth, and then ended up as one of the greatest boxers alive made her heart skip a beat. Just knowing she had the opportunity to do just that. To be next to someone that felt the same way she did filled her with determination.
"Stop, stop, stop." Gallus finally came from behind the bag he was holding to stare Smolder straight in the face. The dragon stopped punching and started returning his stare, looking more confused than anything. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what again?"
"You're throwing your punches too fast. Your technique's completely off," Gallus answered, grabbing Smolder's shoulders and squaring them correctly. Upon touch, her stance automatically straightened as she gazed back at the griffon. Once he seemed satisfied, he finally took a few steps back. "There. Now, maybe try directing your blows toward, I dunno, a valid pressure point?" He stepped back behind the bag, holding it in place and signaling to his friend that he was ready.
Smolder nodded from her position in front of the punching bag. Keeping her gaze straight on the point she was ready to hit, she hopped forward, leaned forward with her gloves held up in guard, and threw her first, readily trained punch.
Upon impact, the bag absorbed the punch, yet kicked up a bit from the sudden impulse. Gallus looked from behind the bag, pride in his small smirk. "Again," he said. And Smolder delivered, throwing twice as powerful a punch to the very same 'pressure point'.
The bag responded by kicking up again, only slightly higher than it did before. Gallus looked even prouder. "Again," he repeated, his voice raising just a little. Smolder gave a devilish grin, throwing a jab twice as powerful as the last. "Again!"
She threw another one.
"And again!"
Another one.
"Another one!"
Again, and again, back and forth the bag rocked as Smolder continued to fight against it. Each trained punch getting more and more of a reaction out of said punching bag. And Gallus only grew louder and louder in is words of blissful encouragement, each cheer getting speedier and more filled with pride.
All of this until Smolder began throwing each and every blow as fast as she had been before. Except this time, she looked like a trained professional. Like she had learned to throw punches like one of the greats she always looked up to. And eventually, Gallus knew she would get there, but in good time.
And with training like this, it only rendered her chances greater.
After an hour of rigorous punching, Smolder lay on the treehouse floor doing sit ups. Gallus kept watch as he skimmed through the Ponyville Newspaper. He couldn't lie; he felt like someone's no-nonsense buckball coach watching Smolder train like this without really doing anything else but watching her. Still, it was something to do to hang out with his friend, so he didn't really pay any mind.
As he skimmed over the long essays in the newspaper pages, he soon came to realize that not everything was something to skim over.
His eyes bulged wide, shining brightly as he silently beamed inside. The only thing missing from this moment is some convenient angelic choir.
Gasping, he flew over to his friend with the newspaper in hand. "Smolder- Smolder, look!"
Luckily, said dragon happened to be on her last sit up as she sat up to take a look. Well, she didn't exactly have achoice; Gallus practically shoved the page in her face.
Irritated, Smolder shuffled back so that she could actually read what was on the paper. Gallus' excited smile didn't fade, however, so she just assumed that whatever news he just uncovered was some good news.
Squinting her eyes at the small letters on the paper, she read aloud the words on the page:
Looking to be an aspiring boxer? Waiting for your number one chance to stand beside one of the greats?
Well, here's your chance!
Here in Mexicolt, (yes, Mexicolt) we'll be holding a knockout boxing tournament, only accepting the best of the best to compete, and win 10,000 bits, also with the added bonus of getting to box with your favorite fighters, and show them your stuff! Who knows, maybe you'll get the chance for them to take you under their wing! (If you're lucky.)
Just remember, we don't only accept rookies.
Starting the first of June this summer!
Smolder looked up from the page and to the equally beaming Gallus on the other side. Smolder, looking dumbfounded and slack jawed only gaze back at him. Gallus nodded giddily, almost ready to accept one of the uncharacteristically tightest hugs he would have ever gotten.
"We're going to that tournament this summer," Smolder said.
"Hell yeah, we are!"
Author's Note
Still, the thought of being next to someone that had been doing the very same thing since birth, and then ended up as one of the greatest boxers alive made her heart skip a beat. Just knowing she had the opportunity to do just that. To be next to someone that felt the same way she did filled her with determination.
TotallynotanUndertalereference.
