Boxers · 7:44am Jun 23rd, 2014
A brief fic I wrote at TrotCon 2014, with a few minor alterations
Her ears rang. The stench of blood-tinged sweat permeated the air, and she was unable to see even her own hoof in front of her muzzle. A gravelly cry cut through the muffled cheering.
“Get up, Sweets!”
Sweetie Belle blinked. Focus, she thought to herself. She strained her eyes until she finally made out the vision of her friend, Scootaloo, climbing the turnbuckles and shouting at her to pull her flank off the ring floor before she came in there herself.
“You can do it, Sweetie Belle!” shouted—no, it was more like “sang”, for those comely, rustic lips could emit nothing so barbaric—sang Apple Bloom. Her encouragement gave Sweetie just the edge she needed.
“Apple Bloom!” Sweetie slurred, as she burst up from the floor with renewed vigor. “Apple Bloom!”
She rushed her opponent—right jab; left hook; uppercut! She wove around or riposted every counter-strike, never giving them an opening. She was going to do it; she was making her comeback!
“Sweetie Belle, watch out!” AB cried, but it was too late. Sweetie spun through the air as she fell, before smacking her chest into a corner stool. Her breath left her; all she could do was drench the ring in tears as her eyes flicked up to look at her opponent. Finally, she managed to sputter out “Dumb... fabric...” before collapsing unconscious.
“We'll never get our boxing cutie marks now,” Scootaloo whined, crestfallen.
Note: I'm trying to think of an alternative title involving the words "palooka" and "palaka", though the current one's somewhat humorous and simple
mwahaha :D
*Grins* Very nice.
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Thanks! Still feels weird knowing people can read this (and that Present made sure it got read to a score of 'em, the jerk)
I'm always open to constructive criticism, if you've got any