Post by Eron Hunter on May 12, 2022 16:18:00 GMT -5
Sicily.
.It was a calm spring evening. He was lying on his back, watching the stars, in the grass-filled field in front of his house. The big tree under which he was lying stretched its branches all over his head, forming a cupola of sorts. He gazed at the stars, through them branches, and they gazed back.
He smiled, crossed his arms behind his head, and took a deep breath filling his lungs with the humid, spring evening, air. After some more moments of silence, he started whistling a cheerful melody. A melody he had heard in his many travels around the world.
He would come to this spot, whenever he needed to think about things. It was as good of a place as any other, though his sentimental nature loved the poetic sceneries and the calm they emanated. This place, he had made his second home since he came back to his homeland, after succumbing to that injury and losing the NPW World Title to Jamester.
He thought a lot about things.
Some people are more practical types of humans. Some others rely on their theoretical baggage to make sense and be prepared for what comes next; they analyze what happened and shape their theories about the world.
His father used to tell him he, Eron, was a theoretical type of man. When he was younger he would ask a lot of questions to himself and come up with conclusions about things. He used to read a lot and had a vast knowledge about stuff, vaster than most other young people of his age had.
But he didn´t like to be labeled as Theoretical.
That was one of the reasons for his departure away from home, eleven years ago.
Now he had a vast experience to boot.
The travels he had traveled and the hardships he had endured had made an almost complete human being out of him. He had added experience to his theoretical knowledge and had become the complete package, at an age when many of his friends were either this or that. Now, he agreed there was much to be learned and that the more one knows, the more he knows that that which he knows is nothing compared to the vast knowledge out there.
Eron was young
…but he was also old.
He was young as the morning and old as the sea.
He was an introvert, he liked his solitude, but he also knew that a man alone can’t amount to much when it comes to facing the adversities of life. Thus he had learned that forming alliances, when the going gets tough, helps a man overcome the hardships of life and the squared circle.
He was a solitary nature but he was not dumb.
That’s why he allied with Morrisey, during the end phase of the rumble. That alliance helped him win the fight and it also helped Morrisey get a chance at gold, should he defeat Zolothatch. Eron knew that this alliance of sorts, shaped during a moment of adversity, would and could come back to hurt him.
But he was prepared.
He was prepared since ages past. He was a fighter, by nature and by profession, and being a good fighter required you to be ready whenever the situation requires you to be ready. And he was. Be it Xiaolong, Morrisey, or the whole army, he was dead serious about defending this newly acquired belt, because he had won a goddamn rumble to be a champion.
And winning a goddamn Rumble isn’t easy.
It was his first Rumble victory ever.
He would do everything in his might to protect his achievements. After all, being the best fighter in the world had been his dream for ages past and now that he had achieved that once, he was sure as hell he would want to achieve that again.
He could almost foresee how things would go.
His intuition and his experience helped him with that. He was young, true, but he also had an eleven-year-old experience in fights, troubles, and problems of everyday life and fighting. He was young, surely but he was also old enough to have an innumerable amount of experiences under his belt.
He was young
Young as the morning
And old
Old as the sea.
Xiaolong, Morrissey, or Zolothatch could come and fight him for that belt. But if they thought even for an instant that they could easily have the upper hand in a match against him, they were bitterly wrong. And he would prove this to them, any moment of the day.
The night was young and the thoughts many.
He smiled.
.It was a calm spring evening. He was lying on his back, watching the stars, in the grass-filled field in front of his house. The big tree under which he was lying stretched its branches all over his head, forming a cupola of sorts. He gazed at the stars, through them branches, and they gazed back.
He smiled, crossed his arms behind his head, and took a deep breath filling his lungs with the humid, spring evening, air. After some more moments of silence, he started whistling a cheerful melody. A melody he had heard in his many travels around the world.
He would come to this spot, whenever he needed to think about things. It was as good of a place as any other, though his sentimental nature loved the poetic sceneries and the calm they emanated. This place, he had made his second home since he came back to his homeland, after succumbing to that injury and losing the NPW World Title to Jamester.
He thought a lot about things.
Some people are more practical types of humans. Some others rely on their theoretical baggage to make sense and be prepared for what comes next; they analyze what happened and shape their theories about the world.
His father used to tell him he, Eron, was a theoretical type of man. When he was younger he would ask a lot of questions to himself and come up with conclusions about things. He used to read a lot and had a vast knowledge about stuff, vaster than most other young people of his age had.
But he didn´t like to be labeled as Theoretical.
That was one of the reasons for his departure away from home, eleven years ago.
Now he had a vast experience to boot.
The travels he had traveled and the hardships he had endured had made an almost complete human being out of him. He had added experience to his theoretical knowledge and had become the complete package, at an age when many of his friends were either this or that. Now, he agreed there was much to be learned and that the more one knows, the more he knows that that which he knows is nothing compared to the vast knowledge out there.
Eron was young
…but he was also old.
He was young as the morning and old as the sea.
He was an introvert, he liked his solitude, but he also knew that a man alone can’t amount to much when it comes to facing the adversities of life. Thus he had learned that forming alliances, when the going gets tough, helps a man overcome the hardships of life and the squared circle.
He was a solitary nature but he was not dumb.
That’s why he allied with Morrisey, during the end phase of the rumble. That alliance helped him win the fight and it also helped Morrisey get a chance at gold, should he defeat Zolothatch. Eron knew that this alliance of sorts, shaped during a moment of adversity, would and could come back to hurt him.
But he was prepared.
He was prepared since ages past. He was a fighter, by nature and by profession, and being a good fighter required you to be ready whenever the situation requires you to be ready. And he was. Be it Xiaolong, Morrisey, or the whole army, he was dead serious about defending this newly acquired belt, because he had won a goddamn rumble to be a champion.
And winning a goddamn Rumble isn’t easy.
It was his first Rumble victory ever.
He would do everything in his might to protect his achievements. After all, being the best fighter in the world had been his dream for ages past and now that he had achieved that once, he was sure as hell he would want to achieve that again.
He could almost foresee how things would go.
His intuition and his experience helped him with that. He was young, true, but he also had an eleven-year-old experience in fights, troubles, and problems of everyday life and fighting. He was young, surely but he was also old enough to have an innumerable amount of experiences under his belt.
He was young
Young as the morning
And old
Old as the sea.
Xiaolong, Morrissey, or Zolothatch could come and fight him for that belt. But if they thought even for an instant that they could easily have the upper hand in a match against him, they were bitterly wrong. And he would prove this to them, any moment of the day.
The night was young and the thoughts many.
He smiled.
