Manasa narrowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the inner Warehouse, only dimly lit by a few flickering lights that remained in tact. As he looked around, he failed to notice the female asking him about betting. Immediately, he went straight for the Judge, who sat prominently perched atop his multi-stacked crate throne overlooking the empty ring. Approaching in a submissive posture, the coydog stared up at the enormous brute. "Uh, I'd like to sign up to fight in round 2 tomorrow night." Manasa said with a confident whimper. The large black wolfdog stared down at him, his blind eye with a long scar slashed over it blinking. "Very well." The brute spoke in a booming voice, eyeing the hen clenched in the smaller dog's jaws. "Pay up, then." He added. Manasa nodded and dropped the hen, gently shoving it towards the intimidating wolfdog with his paw. "Tomorrow night round two it is." The Judge barked, dismissing him. Manasa straightened up and nodded, padding off to find Tyson.
The brindle boxer had already begun socializing, though no one really took the time to talk to a dog who was speaking through the limp prey in his jaws. Manasa bounded over to the male, halting at his side. "Well, signed up for a round tomorrow night." He said panting. "Give me that hen. I'm gonna go make some bets." He demanded, snatching the chicken from the submissive boxer's maw. "Okay.." Tyson responded, almost instantly getting distracted by his want to socialize. He bounded off, long tail wagging. The young boxer skidded to a stop next to a female Rottweiler, panting and immediately lunging into a play bow. "Hiya!" He barked in an all-too-friendly tone even though he'd never met the fae before. "My name's Tyson." The yearling introduced, grinning happily up at the bigger dog.
Manasa rolled his eyes at the brindle and began to shove through the crowd to get to the betting tables. After waiting in a shorter line, he finally got to the crate counter with a pretty Irish Setter working behind it. Instantly, he went into charm mode and hopped up, putting his forepaws on the counter, lightly setting the hen down. "Hey there." He said, raising his eyebrows at the female. "I've got a hen on the poodle in the next round, sweetheart." He winked at the setter, who rolled her eyes and gave him a ticket made of food wrappers that he would bring back if he won to collect his winnings. Manasa grabbed the ticket and hopped down, padding to the ring. He shoved his narrow frame through the barking crowd of anxious dogs to force a front row spot right behind the wood barrier.
