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He stood tall in the glimmering moonlight, speckles of sweat shimmering in his rusty colored fur as he looked down at the male sprawled at his feet. The wolf grinned, teeth slipping from behind his lips in a predatory sneer as he placed his foot on the fallen caracal's chest.

"The winner!" The announcement followed shortly even as the lupine's arms lifted above his head, "Mathias Wolf!" He basked in those simple words, his heart pounding from the exertion of the fight and the thrill of his victory. the gathered furs clapped, some cat-called and one or two cursed as they flipped off the semi-conscious feline beneath Mathias' foot; it was a fine line between doubling your pay on a fight like this, and losing it all.

The sounds of the ocean lapping against the pier filled the night air as the applause quieted and the wolf turned to take a seat in his corner. The ring was make-shift, nothing more than some padding held in place by the wood planks that surrounded it. The docks made for a wonderful place to hold these fights, the claustrophobic crush of the surrounding shipping containers gave the fighters and their fans all the privacy they needed. The air stank of salt, sweat and blood and even the plaintative cry of the circling gulls were muted by the steel crates that surrounded the gathered furs.

"Give me someone else" shouted the wolf as he rose from his seat to face the crowd. The caracal was dragged by his arms from the ring, his nose trickling blood and his right eye already beginning to swell as the crowd murmured amongst themselves. "Someone here has to be able to give me an actual fight. Come on!" he continued. His tone was taunting but the confidence that lurked beneath it gave even the larger spectators pause. How he loved this. The wolf's heart had slowed but like the defeated feline's eye, he could feel it swelling; they feared him. Why shouldn't they? Though he stood a modest 6'3" the wolf only weighed in at 180 pounds. While he was no lightweight, his size had left him the underdog in many of his fights and yet he often found a way to win.

"Anyone?" asked the announcer, his voice buzzing from a small portable amp that sat on a table near the ring; Silence. The wolf rolled his eyes as he wiped the sweat from his paws onto the thigh-length shorts he wore, the fabric clinging to his legs like a second-skin. The wolf was topless, the chill of the night air assuaged by his fur. As he paced the ring, looking each potential opponent in the eye as he passed them, the announcer continued. "$200 to anyone that takes Mathias down, on top of their normal winnings" he called out at last. Silence was bad for business and he needed someone in there fighting.

"I'll do it" came a deep thrum from the back of the crowd. As the spectators parted to make way the wolf stopped his pacing and stared. Before him stood a beast of a bear, the male easily 6'11" and his bulky frame dwarfing that of the athletically toned lupine. There was no fanfare, no cheers, just an oppressive silence as the bear stepped into the ring. He pulled his shirt off and stood before the smaller wolf in only a pair of oil-stained denim jeans. The grin on the bear's muzzle was much the same as the one the wolf had given the caracal, "Ready to go, lil' guy?"

"You're going to look great as a rug" was all the stunned wolf could think to say. Before he knew it the bell had rung and the fight had begun. Rather than an explosive flurry from either fighter they contented themselves with observing the movements of their opponent. The wolf crouched down low, his tail waving behind him and betraying his growing eagerness at the challenge that stood before him. The bear was not so obvious, that grin still plastered to his muzzle and his methodically plodding steps hinting that he was in no hurry to attack the smaller male. The crowd remained quiet, only the soft whispers of bets being placed interrupting the stillness of the moment, the figurative calm before the storm.

When the first strike was thrown it was Mathias who threw it. The wolf's simple chop bounced harmlessly off of the bear's chest, but it was the fist plunging into the ursine's gut a second later that the wolf had hedged his bets on. This time it paid off as the bear stumbled back a step, a heavy paw moving to his gut even as the wolf pressed his early advantage. Several straight kicks highlighted Mathias' training as a kickboxer, each of them slamming into the side of the bear's knee. The simple combination drew a series of cheers from the crowd as they realized the wolf actually had a chance; Mathias couldn't help but feel himself grow more confident.

"Put your money down now, boys. This won't take long" the wolf called out tauntingly, his eyes not leaving the bear in front of him. The simple taunt was enough to draw a growl from the bear, his breath curling visibly from his muzzle in the cool night air. The charge that followed didn't catch Mathias off guard, but there was little the wolf could do as he braced himself for the attack. Heavy, brown furred fists rained down on the smaller male's head and shoulders. The wolf bounced around beneath those hits like a leaf caught in a windstorm. Each hit sent jarring shocks of pain through Mathias' body but his mind remained clear, arms blocking what they could and the edge of the ring leaving him unable to fall back any further. The wolf could hear the crowd's shouts, their demands that he get away from the bear, that he had better not cost them more of their pay. An opening came in the form of an overhead strike that was meant to pummel the top of Mathias' skull, but instead it was the bear that found himself falling to his knees as the wolf's knee slammed upwards into his denim-covered crotch. The bear's eyes widened, muzzle falling slack as his paws stopped striking Mathias and instead moved to cover himself.

Bloodied from the flurry of punches the wolf could feel blood trickling from his nose, and his right eye stung. 'I have to be fast' thought Mathias, he knew that eye would begin to swell shut and if it did, he would be at a serious disadvantage. The bear was still on his knees, the noises slipping from his slack muzzle drawing peals of laughter from the clearly pro-Mathias crowd. The wolf stepped into him, his side pressed against the larger male's shoulder and his arm slipping around the bear's throat.

"Time for a ride" was all Mathias said, the adrenaline coursing through his veins the only thing keeping the wolf from feeling the throbbing pain that pervaded his body. Mathias leapt forward once he had firmly secured the kneeling bear's throat, splashing belly down onto the mats and bringing the large ursine with him. While the wolf was able to brace himself for the impact, the dazed bear's body collided with no such benefit; His head bounced off the stiff matting and his legs kicked up as a little grunt escaped him. The wolf continued to abuse his opponent, rolling right out of the splash to lay faceup across the half-conscious ursine's body. An elbow came down swiftly to smash into the bear's ribs, then another, and another. Each strike drew a short roar from the crowd, their enthusiasm keeping time with the wolf's strikes. Mathias could feel the bear's breathing beneath him grow more erratic, but after three strikes to the bear's ribs he could feel himself being lifted and simply thrown off of the hulking male. The wolf landed in a heap near the edge of the ring, a near collision with the wooden boards which supported the mats nearly ending Mathias' fight. As he rolled to his back and rose once more he could see the bear doing the same, albeit more slowly.

"Give it up" panted the wolf.

"Ladies first" came the wheezing reply.

The pace of the fight slowed, but Mathias could feel his vision beginning to blur in the eye which had been struck earlier. The bear was in no better shape and as he stood he did so groggily, swaying on his feet for a moment. It had been awhile since the wolf had actually had a challenge in these dock-side fights. The thrill of it over-rode the pain and though he was far too focused to notice, the wolf's body had its own ideas on the matter. Those mid-thigh black shorts Mathias wore had begun to tent in the front, his cock hardening with a mixture of adrenaline, excitement and his body's tingling memory of laying on the big brute of a bear. They took a moment to examine each other. Both fighters grew wary in their movements but the wolf didn't have the luxury of time. Lunging forward Mathias' fists struck at the bruised ribs of his opponent, trying to weaken the big guy by focusing on a single point.

Several punches snuck through the woozy bear's defences, each strike sending a spear of pain directly through the ursine's chest. A clumsy counter-attack on the bear's part was easily avoided by the nimble wolf, the swing passing harmlessly over his head. The wolf saw another opportunity and took it. As he ducked under the swing Mathias pressed himself up against his opponent's body, that hard lupine cock grinding unwittingly against the bear's thigh as the wolf's arms looped around the large male's waist. The momentum of the bear's swing gave Mathias the extra boost he needed. A deep, guttural growl escaped the lupine as he bent backwards, throwing all of his weight into a powerful suplex. Time slowed, each second that passed gave the wolf hours to tell himself what a terrible idea this was. The feel of the bear's body against his was electrifying, the possibility that he had just beaten the big guy tearing apart Mathias' doubts as quickly as they could form.

"Urrraaah!" he cried out as every muscle in his body demanded he stop, but it was too late, the die had been cast. The suplex was not one of his best, but neither was it one of his worst. The bear sailed through the air like a brown furred airplane, the mat rushing towards his surprise-addled face and eventually meeting it with a meaty impact; the crowd exploded. As he pushed the prone ursine's weight off of him, the wolf simply remained on his back and tried to catch his breath. The bear remained motionless beside the wolf for now and Mathias took advantage of it by trying to soothe his screaming muscles. Slowly he got back to his feet, the simple movement taking nearly a full thirty seconds as he got to his knees first before finally rising to a stand. "That's what you get!" The wolf's cry was breathless, exhausted but satisfied. He could hear the crowd chanting his name but it was that noise which prevented the wolf from hearing the bear rise behind him. The large ursine's muzzle was a mess of blood, one eye swelling shut much like the wolf's and his left arm hanging limply, not broken but certainly too sore to move.

"Gonna... pay..." panted out the furious ursine, his body wracked with pain that only his anger let him fight through. The wolf had no chance to stop the front kick that sent him sprawling forward onto his knees. The hit to his back drew an uncharacteristic yelp from the experienced fighter. Mathias couldn't move, he was exhausted and as he braced against the mat to try and fight his way back to his feet the zombie-like shuffle of the ursine brought the bear to stand above the fallen wolf. The bear's good arm lowered to pull Mathias up, fist closing around the wolf's throat. Mathias threw several lacklustre punches, his muscles fighting through their own pain to little avail. "Enjoy... the ride" growled the bear before he simply lifted the smaller male off his feet by the grip on Mathias' throat. The wolf was helpless to stop the bear, his paws moving to try and dislodge the meaty fist but he knew he was in trouble. The bear's arm shook as he held the struggling wolf several feet off of the mat. When the end came it was quick. In a final grunt of exertion, he flung Mathias down, all of his weight going into the choke-slam that would have driven the poor male through the matting if it weren't for the concrete bracing beneath it.

Mathias' body was wracked with pain as it collided with the mat, the bear's weight localized in his throat and a choking cry escaped the wolf as his whole body spasmed with pain. Spittle flew from Mathias' muzzle, his eyes widening. 'Well shit...' was all he could think before the weight of the bear crushed him beneath it.

"1!" cried the announcer; Mathias grimaced.

"2!" the announcer continued; Mathias lay helpless.

"3!!!" roared the announcer; The crowd erupted once more.

When the weight of the bear rolled off of him Mathias drew in a deep breath of air that seemed to awaken the pain roiling in his body. For an instant he felt the bear's weight press down on his chest as he posed above the fallen fighter, and despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, despite his muddled anger, Mathias blushed. His cock still throbbed in his tight shorts as he lay sprawled on his back, unable to even lift an arm to push that foot away.

"The winner!" The announcer's voice filled Mathias' ears even as the wolf faded into unconsciousness. If the bear had a name, the lupine missed it.

The bear looked down at the wolf, his own body wracked with pain and his left arm almost useless for the moment. There was no more malice in the large male's gaze though, he had already won, there was no reason to hate the wolf.

"When do I claim my prize?" he asked the announcer as the disappointed spectators dispersed, the few who had bet on the bear gloating to those who had lost money on the fight.

"The money? Just come with me, you'll get paid. That was a hell of a fight, not often we see Mathias get beaten like that" answered the announcer. He watched Mathias be dragged from the ring to have his injuries treated. It was an ignoble end to the wolf's otherwise successful evening.

"No, the wolf. When do I get to claim him?" The bear's muzzle pulled back in a grin, the blood that had been smeared from the ursine's nose sent a shiver down the announcer's spine as he eyed the large male.

"Come with me" was all the announcer said. It wasn't uncommon for victors to make such requests after all.

Above them that gull called out a final time as the last of the spectators wandered off, the bear and announcer following suit. The ring lay empty, blood drying on the mats that would have to be cleaned off before tomorrow night's matches. There was never a shortage of fighters, nor a shortage of fools willing to be parted from their money; for both, the ring waited.