08-20-2018, 01:04 AM
A voice could be heard behind him, Caesar's voice. The voice rang through the colosseum and instantly Marcellus turned around on his heels, giving a small sniffle of his nose as he looked to see the domestic feline. He was so fucked. Not only was Caesar his superior in the Grim Ray's division but while he was a domestic feline, he had powers and not only that but Marcel was at a severe disadvantage due to his three legs and lack of any powers at all. Great, looks like today would be the day he dies so it seems. He studied the domestic feline for a moment before making his way a bit closer. "Alright, best of luck." He wasn't exactly saying that towards Caesar but towards himself as instantly he knew he would need it. While it would probably be a waste of time to spar when he knew he wasn't going to win, Marcellus needed the experience to get stronger and grow as he went along so he wouldn't end up staying this way his entire lifetime in the Typhoon. He needed to be able to fight not only because he was in this type of group, but because of the division he chose.
Breaking out of his thoughts, the king cheetah took a hesitant step forward. First thing he needed to work on, not hesitating. Fighting was a art that happens far too fast and hesitating would only result him in a sure death. With as much speed as the sickly male could muster, he would begin to run at the Officer as fast he could manage which wasn't much due to his limp, trying to lock his into the Officer's scruff and throw him as far as he could manage. A very weak move and start on his part but he had no powers or weapons to help him, thus having to reside to using his tooth and claws which were a very outdated way of fighting. If his attack hadn't hit he would try his best to whip around and aim to bite into the domestic's back leg and throw him that way, though that would only be if the Officer hadn't already moved out of the way should he had missed his first attack.
Breaking out of his thoughts, the king cheetah took a hesitant step forward. First thing he needed to work on, not hesitating. Fighting was a art that happens far too fast and hesitating would only result him in a sure death. With as much speed as the sickly male could muster, he would begin to run at the Officer as fast he could manage which wasn't much due to his limp, trying to lock his into the Officer's scruff and throw him as far as he could manage. A very weak move and start on his part but he had no powers or weapons to help him, thus having to reside to using his tooth and claws which were a very outdated way of fighting. If his attack hadn't hit he would try his best to whip around and aim to bite into the domestic's back leg and throw him that way, though that would only be if the Officer hadn't already moved out of the way should he had missed his first attack.