Angelina. Green. NO WAY!
To think, she was as close as Elkurn, which was a mere ten miles away.
For those unlucky enough not to have heard of her, she is the five-time world champion at bare knuckle fighting. She's an 899-year-old kumiho (many tailed fox) from the eastern countries. She was the reigning eastern champion of bare knuckle fighting for the past 234 years and I'd always looked up to her.
My eyes were glowing as I dragged Adrian and Alister to the town square.
"Could you stop dragging me, lamian filth?" said Al, who had given up on running with me and was now letting himself flop as I pulled him across the pavement. I dropped him abruptly.
"Whoops," I said, leaning down, offering to help him up with my hand. The moment he was about to grab it I brought it up to my face, pulling down one of my eyelids and sticking out my tongue.
"This is exactly why you don't have a boyfriend," I heard Adrian murmur, watching me and Alister bicker.
My head snapped in his direction.
"What did you just say?" I growled.
"Nothing, nothing," he replied, holding his hands up awkwardly.
Me and Al fought the whole way. Even though many would think that it's impossible to try and kill each other walking that kind of distance, me and Al managed to do it three times. Each.
First, we got in a full out sword fight which almost destroyed the pavement when Adrian tried to stop us, Al attempted to whack me with a brick, and I tried to bite him. Not to mention the stupid ones when Alister tried to sell me as a slave and proceeded to stand on the end of my tail. Then I tried to strangle him.
Somehow, we turned a two-hundred-meter walk into a battleground.
When we finally reached the town square, me and Al were ripping each other's hair out while Adrian went to find the host. Whenever I come to watch a match, they sit me at the centre so that other people can use my tail as a chair. Adrian came back, gave us a telling off and dragged me to the front. He looked much younger than he was, with his childlike smile and the way he's always cheerful. Truth be told, he's three years older than me. I was always jealous of Addy: he became a general at thirteen years and got his holy weapon when he was five. The spirit spear, Gungir. Made by Oden himself!
I settled down, the weight of at least twenty butts plonking down on my tail, and watched. The square, somehow, was circular. The King of Ragni stepped out on a podium and gave a long speech about sportsmanship and racial tolerance. I barely listened, until the King made an obvious reference to me.
"...and no matter the turnout, we will overlook our differences in opinion and not fight. I think you know who you are."
"What?" I yelled. "Come on, that was only once!"
Finally, the King stepped down and the scribe ran down to begin the show.
I didn't bother to listen to all the boring introductions but my ears perked up when I heard him mention Angelina.
"Angelina Green steps into the arena, swishing her eight dark-as-night tails behind her. On the other side of the arena, Altair Alexandros, a buff minotaur, steps in. The first bell rings."
Someone passed me a beer. I shrugged. Alcohol is alcohol, I guess.
"'I don't fight girls,' says Altair, much taller than Angel. Her fox ears perk up and her many piercings jingle.
'Me neither,' she replies, tauntingly. The young minotaur begins his transformation. He flexes his muscles, growing at least twice as large, thrice as wide. His loincloth, which appeared to be a skirt, stretched, and now he is towering over Angelina. Even though he looks terrifying, she continues to hop foot to foot, making sure the back of her red-and-black kimono is tightly tied."
Someone passed me another beer, which I took without thinking. I'd already downed the first one and my love of alcohol showed through.
"The minotaur throws a punch, which Angelina vaults over, digging her claws into his fist. When she lands, she's already transformed: where she stood before is a fox, eight tails swishing, kimono sagging and cloaking her cat-like body. She runs up his arm, but Altair tries to swat her like a fly.
'You shouldn't have transformed: all you've done is given me a bigger target!' she laughs, grinning crazily from ear to ear.'"
Someone behind me left a beer in my hand. I gave him a quick thanks and proceeded to chug it down, earning a strange look from both Alister and Adrian.
"Quickly dodging the minotaur, she lunges in, mouth open wide, and bites his undefended neck. Altair dissolves, turning into a blue powder, which floats up into the sky, leaving behind what looks like a shard of aquamarine glass bobbing on the floor. Angelina falls down, and lands expertly in the centre of the ring. Sticking her tongue out, fox bead balanced on the end, she holds up a 'v' for victory. The crowds go wild and she seems pleased with the outcome. When the audience leaves, she kneels down and has a conversation with the soul shard on the floor. After waving goodbye, she watches it zoom off into the sky, arching over and heading south."
I look down. At least 15 empty pints lie at my feet, and I realise how much I'd drank.  I sit there, dumbfounded, thinking about the hangover I'll have tomorrow, until some idiot complained about the result.
"I mean it's so unfair," the man complained. "That fox was using a speed potion!"
"Yeah!" someone else joined in. "There's no way she could move that fast!"
I watched in anger as the mob grew, listening to the crap they were blaming on Angelina.
"SHE DIDN'T CHEAT AND THAT'S FINAL!" I yelled, incredibly drunk. "ANYONE GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?"
"YES!" they all chorused, drawing their swords. We ran at each other and started punching, kicking, jabbing and slashing at each other.
"Popcorn?" Adrian asked Al. They were standing inside a shop, watching the brawl. Addy was nibbling on some snacks he hadn't finished, as Alister snickered at the villagers.
"Stop laughing," Adrian said, popping a piece of salted popcorn in his mouth. "It's rude."
Alister laughed. "Some of those drunks are part of the Ragni defence force!" he replied, laughing loudly. "How can they stand up to intruders when they can't even stand up to one lamia!"
Adrian watched as I stood atop the mound of drunks, all knocked out or grumbling.
"That's why I stick around," he mumbled, hopping through the knocked out drunkards. With a brisk walk, he came up to me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me and Al home like toddlers. Damn, this'll be one bad hangover.