Sparring Ring Or Infirmary Novels & Stories

“Ready.” After four or five rounds, Christopher hit the stopwatch. “That’s pad work. Next: hand-foot coordination, then two rounds of light touch sparring. No contact.” “No contact,” Aria repeated, eyes gleaming. “If there is, it’ll be accidental.” “There won’t be,” Kai said, that faint half-smile appearing—right where it belonged.

Intentionally structured ones. Freya marched with purpose, her steps confident, as though she had memorized every inch of the place. “This,” she gestured, “is the primary combat ring.” The circular arena beneath our feet was marked with faint lines barely visible unless you looked closely. “Ranked matches happen here,” she continued. “Every fighter is assessed, documented, and placed accordingly. Strength without order is useless in Woodhound.” I blinked, glancing down again. Documented? Assessed? That alone was already different.

It was a doozy of a place where one could actually breathe a thousand prying eyes. He led me further in, toward the center of the arena where a matted circular ring sat under a spotlight. I expected to see a basketball hoop or a tennis net, but instead, I saw heavy bags, grappling dummies, and racks of hand wraps along with other martial-art like equipment spaced around. "This isn't sport." I mumbled. “This is entirely different…." "The sport of the day," Brian corrected, walking toward the center of the mats. I looked at the heavy bags and the grappling dummies, then back at him.

Sparring is the process of learning to turn the techniques you drilled with into something you could actually use against a real opponent. “Take it easy, princess.” I tell her as I handed her the towel. I just watched her spar with Ivan at the gym. Ivan’s movements were controlled but I can see that Hope isn’t fooling around either. Her punches are powerful and her kicks are clean, although still a bit clumsy.

Still not as cold as the silence between Camila and me. Damn him. Damn Kage for seeing too much. For being right. I hated that he was right. He is never right, and for the first time he is right. **** The clang of metal against metal echoed through the training hall, rhythmic and sharp. I’d come here to lose myself in motion, to bleed out the frustration that had wrapped itself around my ribs like barbed wire. My fists were already wrapped, my shirt discarded, and sweat trickled down my spine as I stepped into the sparring ring.

It’s like choosing between a rock and a seriously annoying hard place. I stretch my arms, trying to focus on my breathing, ignoring the daggers those girls are throwing with their eyes. They think they’re so tough, but really, it’s all talk. The moment a real fight starts, I swear half of them would bolt. But hey, if sparring is gonna include dodging death stares, maybe it’s good practice? My eyes scan the room as I warm up, taking in the familiar walls covered in weapon racks and training dummies. There’s this slightly damp smell, maybe a leaky ceiling somewhere. And there’s the giant clock on the wall that’s always a little off.

I dusted off the bars, ensuring a firm grip for the fighters' hands. In the corner of the gym, a boxing ring stood as a centerpiece, surrounded by ropes that awaited the dance of fierce combat. I walked toward it, the canvas beneath my feet feeling firm and supportive. I checked the ropes, ensuring their tension was just right, not too loose to pose a danger, yet not too tight to hinder movement. The worn-out punching bags hanging from the ceiling swayed gently, remnants of countless battles fought. I straightened them, ready to endure further punishment. Adjacent to the ring, a sparring area beckoned with its padded floors and mirrors. It was here that warriors honed their skills and perfec

I ask them as they all get psyched up for the next sparring round. In twos, they all walk to the sparring ring to get prepared for the next sparring matches. Some of them walk around with me to help out some of the other groups as well that are still struggling. With all of us working together, I am happy to say that some of the others are catching up rather quickly as well.

I find a bench under the shade of a tree. “Sit!” I do. “One class left and you can go back to bed.” I look at my schedule for today on my phone. Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out. Thankfully, my tee isn’t missing from my locker today. I get to class early and sit on the mat, doing stretches before the sparring begins. I haven’t been able to spar since I left the infirmary. The higher levels which have Phineas, Darien, Elio and Roman have more demanding lectures and work meaning we don’t have time to clash.

I told her, motioning to the ring that was now freed up. There were a total of three sparring circles set up in a triangle. It allowed groups to gather around the circles to watch the fights and spread out the guests so everyone could see. That way, you could support your fellow pack members, and several fights could happen at one time. This allowed the crowd to be spread across all three sparring circles. The one at the top of the triangle, just past Baylor, was now free. “I don’t mind fighting you, Eva, but I didn’t come over here to ask you to fight,” Desiree stated before scoffing as if I was just paranoid.