Entry 000 - Fox Felt

Dawn Foxes love contests. A friendly competition to test one another in good fun and merry company. And while seasons vary depending on the planet in question, the onset of harvest begins with food, foot races, and a martial championship known as Felt.

Each House – large mutli-family organizations – nominates a handful of combatants to compete for points. There are prizes for those that score highest, and gleeful bragging rights for the remaining cycle. The champion is essentially guaranteed offers from training gyms and athletic clubs, each vying to secure winning star talent.

Dawn Fox males and female both compete, which some find odd. Visiting species who also love physical competitive games (Humans for example) frequently question how this can feasibly work.

Dawn Foxes practice a form of unarmed combat somewhat like the “karate” forms from seen on Earth and allied worlds. While males are usually superior in raw strength, females are always faster and more nimble. In this way neither side has a significant advantage in the area. Points are awarded for pushing your opponent beyond the boundaries three times, or landing the highest number of legal blows.

“That’s it, keep her moving!” Ketra shouted as her sister expertly blocked strike after strike. Unable to land a blow, the brawny challenger from House Byth went to grapple. Jet moved like a whip, capturing him at the wrist and moving with her opponent to fling him well outside the pink chalk line.

Ketra joined with the crowed as they exploded in cheers, the defeated Byth fox standing and sheepishly dusted the pink smears from his arms. He glanced toward Jet and dipping his head, ears folded back in the usual “yield” gesture. Jet, who’s full name does not translate well into Earth Standard, grinned and shot her arms skyward, clawed fingers spread wide.

“JayET, JayET, JAY-ET!” The area shook and reverberated as thousands of golden foxes cheered and shouted their approval.

Ketra tossed her ponytail, ears folded reflexively against the roar, bracing to keep from getting shoved away from ring barriers. Jet was turning small circles, arms still raised, breathing hard and grinning literally ear to ear. The amplified growl of the Felt’s game master rumbled over their heads,

“A clean victory, Jet Toul advances!”

More cheers as the audience briefly overtook the speakers max output.

“Young Fox, two opponents remain. Are you prepared ?”

The game master for this cycle’s Felt was a stocky older male with streaks of white across his face and neck. He crossed into the ring and gestured toward Jet. She yanked her arms downward with a sharp “YES!” that was half word, half bark. The game master bowed politely, then snapped round to address the area.

“Our next challenger is also from House Toul!” he said and was promptly drowned out by voracious enthusiasm. His arm came up, palm extended theatrically toward Ketra. The area lights spun and focused, the audience revving significantly as she gripped the padded barriers with both hands. She tensed and flung herself upward, gracefully vaulting into the outer ring. Cheers, hoots, yells and general verbal thunder rolled as the crowd wound itself up. The short fur on her neck and down her spine rippled as she locked eyes with Jet.

Jet showed her teeth, and crouched. Ketra took a similar pose, and they waited for the starting arc.

The searing flash and concussive boom pummeled the gathered foxes, and Jet launched herself across the ring. Ketra was already moving forward, shifting her weight, catching Jet on the hip, sending the fox spinning to the floor. Ketra followed her down, and caught Jet’s foot against her ribs. The kick sent her flying backwards, with Ketra just sticking the landing.

The crowd howled with approval - this was what they wanted to see! Ketra blocked, spun, blocked,  and nearly took a blow to the face, ponytail exploding into bright strands as she was knocked off balance. Jet Toul was mercilessly fast, coming down on Ketra’s chest, intent on scoring a ‘capture’ – a risky move that awarded high marks but was rarely used.

Foxes just outside the barriers yelled as Ketra caught her sister underneath the muzzle, snapping her head upwards. Taking advantage, she wrapped one leg around Jet’s torso and pulled her sideways, ending with Ketra’s knee firmly between Jet’s shoulders. As Jet fought to break away, Ketra leaned in and nipped the back of her neck, earning a roar of applause, and an angry screech from Jet.

Not meant to wound, a successful nip was a mark of a skillful combatant, and also risky. Huge screens displayed the scores of fighters, numbers flickering and changing as both females struck over and over.

A minute or so later, Ketra was yanked into a crouch and Jet returned the nip, dancing away as the crowed roared again.

Ketra was panting hard, and could taste blood where one of Jet’s hits had landed a little too well. Jet had a bright scratch across the left of her face, and as she swung Ketra spotted an opening. Fist connected beneath ribs, hip, and a kick sent Jet sprawling. Ketra sprang into a crouch and batted at Jet’s face, palm open. The blow connected, Jet’s clenched teeth catching against her palm.

Ketra’s score spun upward. Jet threw her off, dodged the second attack, caught another, and then winced as Ketra’s hard feint morphed into another slap. The crowd was in a frenzy; screams, jeers, yells, barks, all rolling into an avalanche of noise. A burst of colored light, and Ketra blocked a final blow, registering the numbers blazing above her. She had won!

Jet howled and gave her a defeated grin, folding ears and bowing to her older true sister. (Foxes within the same House often refer to relatives as Brother, Father; siblings with the same sire are known as ‘true’).

Ketra flung her arms wide in a yell of triumph. The crowd roared back, exultant to see her victorious. With the Felt matches occurring every year, young foxes built a reputation and status, and though Ketra was from a smaller ranch in the western grasslands of Toul territory, she was among the favorites to win. She gulped water offered by a nearby attendant, and after a long minute the Game Master emerged again.

“Very well fought Ketra!” He turned and waved toward the gathered throng.

“KET-RA, KET-RA,” rolled over them as a thousand foxes chanted their approval.

“And now, the final match of this cycle ... are you prepared?!” The game master’s rich voice boomed as he looked back to Ketra, the crowd erupting in renewed cheers. Ketra lowered her arms back into ready stance.

But the crowd went oddly quiet, the hum of many living beings a backdrop as the attention shifted to the far side of the area. New lights focused on a tall male, with the prominent ears and the rich gold coloring that was the pride of his House.

”SEVEN!” roared the crowd, with more enthusiasm than Ketra felt was quite warranted.