The sun was about to set, and a cool breeze was flowing through the grasslands, swaying the yellow grass. There, beside a lonely tree in the middle of nowhere, were Harry and Groga. They both look battered, exhausted, and both have fresh wounds on their bodies.
The wounds, although fresh, were not lethal. Not to mention, none of them minded the wounds, as their focus was on each other. Harry had a hunting knife in each hand, while Groga had a battle ax, and both of them were locked in an intense stare down.
"Accept defeat," Harry said. "Do you really want to be humiliated by me again?"
Groga smiled. He raised his ax in the air, "Come, you cocky fucker,"
Harry didnt need to be told twice. Without a second thought, he sprinted towards Groga. The first strike from Groga was a simple attack, a downward slash. Harry avoided it with ease by side-stepping and was about to strike Groga when he noticed the weird way Groga was holding the ax.
Groga's one hand was around the hilt of the ax, and the other one was near the blade. That man had assumed that Harry would dodge the attack by sidestepping, and that is where the hold of the ax came into play.
This fucker, Harry thought, when Groga acted. With the help of his left hand, Groga pushed the hilt of the ax sideways, in the direction of Harry's face. It was a very odd move, but considering that they have learned each other's moves by now, it could be considered rather smart.
Harry was caught off guard by the weird move, but the attack didn't guarantee Groga's victory.
His brain did the mental calculation, and then Harry decided that the best course of action would be to fall on his back.
Letting go, he fell, completely neutralizing the strike.
Groga used this as a chance; he properly gripped the ax and slammed the ax on Harry, who was lying on the ground. Despite lying in such a vulnerable position, Harry pushed himself and jumped towards the side, finally getting back on his feet.
"You are quicker," Groga said, "But it is with strength that wars are won."
Groga let out a war cry and moved towards Harry, while he stayed calm even after as ever. He let the man come close to him and got ready with both of his knives in a fighting stance.
Groga, showing off his muscular prowess, started swinging his ax left to right, making it seem as if the battle ax doesn't have weight to it. Harry maintained his distance, his eyes tracking the movements of the ax, making sure that he dodged everything that was thrown at him.
Harry waited for the correct moment when he had perfectly noted down the movement of the ax, and then he moved in.
A straight kick to the left side from Harry made Groga defensive. The big man blocked the kick with his left hand. Harry didnt want to give the man any chance to rest, so he pushed himself in the air, pivoted, and spun in the air and landed the back of his right leg's heel on Groga's face.
The kick made Groga take a step back; it was even able to faze him. But Harry was not done yet; he landed safely after landing the kick and sprinted once again. As he came to Groga, who was still disoriented because of the kick, Harry jumped and landed both of his legs on Groga's chest, finally making him stagger and fall on the ground.
Before Groga could make another move, Harry was already onto him with his knives pointed at the man.
"Told you.." Harry said with a smug face, "You will lose."
Groga bloomed a smile on his face and pushed himself up, "Dont get cocky boy," He said as he stood up, "In other tribes there are people who are way stronger then me. Dont think that you are the strongest, just yet,"
Harry nodded, he was expirence enough to understand that there was not need to be cocky just yet.
As they wrapped up for the day, they picked up their tools and started heading towards the Vulcan tribe.
En route to the settlement, Groga's lectures didnt stop, despite Harry having just defeated him under a minute or so, "Do not engage in any verbal fight with anyone. People of the Mars tribe are very famous for trying to provoke and start fights. During the festival, there are no restrictions on fighting, so make sure that you dont fall into any trap of provocation."
Harry nodded as Groga lectured him more about what he was supposed to do and how he was supposed to behave. And one could not even blame the guy, as a father, Groga was very worried about him. Not to mention, tomorrow is the day that he would finally leave for Agora, which had made Groga more paranoid than usual.
"…Dont forget to be respectful…" Before Groga could utter one more word, Harry said firmly, "Stop."
Groga closed his mouth, and Harry further added, "Chief. I know what I am supposed to do. You have taught me well, Appa, I will make you proud."
Groga stopped walking, while Harry continued walking, fully aware of what was going to happen next. After a few seconds, Groga ran up to him and started walking beside him, silently. He seemed nervous, didnt look Harry in the eye, nor did he dare to say something.