Patricia sat in her waiting room, still clutching Flicker. The arena personnel had offered to take her for medical treatment but patricia had instead requested to have medical supplies delivered to her.
She had gone through the process of slowly feeding the regenerative solution to her beast and then waited for it to kick in. Once she sensed it doing its work she took the set of nippers and files and began to work at spots the carapace had fused together with the application of Francis' strange liquid. Carefully and gently she snipped away and filed down parts of the carapace that were obstructing movement or would rub together or against flesh. She was happily surprised to see the eye she thought was ruined began to regain some of its shape. She didnt know how much sight would return but she shouldn't be completely blind on that side. Most of the legs had gotten off relitively light. But even then on closer inspection one on each side had needed to be amputated due to less obvious damage.
In the end, Flicker was as treated as she could be. The arena had given her a red wax pen, which she used to draw an X on the back of her stinger marking it out of the competition and there for enabling her to keep the crippled beast with her when she left even if she somehow made it into the finals.
Her work done she leaned back and began to process what had happened. She felt stupid for her optimism and carelessness. If Francis hadn't been so decisive after the conclusion of the match flicker would be a snack. If patricia had realized the hopelessness of the situation sooner Flicker might still be sitting in her cage buzzing at her siblings. Maybe she wasnt cut out for being a tamer.
"I should have accepted a real tamer." She hung her head and tears fell onto the still unconscious beast in her lap. "I should take Francis' advice and drop out now." She stayed with her head down for a long moment. Until she heard a frantic buzzing. Unlike usual the buzzing was the only sound of its kind in the room.
She looked up and directed her gaze at her beasts. Hope was clutching the bars and buzzing urgently. The rest of the stingers sat motionless looking up at her in confusion.
She swept her senses across their minds and felt their emotions. Little hope was sending waves of encouragement and trust, stronger than ever before. The rest radiated an odd sense of concern and confusion. Even Buzz who was usually the most emotionally unresponsive to her felt uncomfortable and uneasy, seeing the display of an unfamiliar emotion from her master.
She looked at each in turn remembering their emotions from each fight. There was always a feeling of, well not happyness, but readiness to them maybe even anticipation when they saw thier opponent in front of them. Even in the wild beasts protected their territory or perceived domain. Just like Buzz had felt eager to show the Stinger King she was the stronger of the two.
She had read that some people believed that beasts were meant to battle and not using them in the arena was to do them a disservice. Patricia wasn't a believer in this philosophy. She had raised plenty of stingers and helped in the care of plenty of other beasts that had never been anywhere close to a fight, and probably never would be. She had used ki to survey their mental states and never sensed any longing or a sense of missing something from beasts that were cared for properly. But maybe there was something to it she had overlooked.
Beasts enjoyed establishing pecking orders and defeating enemies. Even her own stingers who had been raised from birth together and had never actively attacked each other, wrestled and did displays of strength or cunning to establish the higharchy. So maybe it wasnt that they longed for combat and blood, but instead gained fulfillment through proving their superiority.
She continued to ponder the morality of the beast arenas, fighting's relation to beasts' emotional states, and her position within this blood drenched industry. Then a knock came at her door. She was startled out of her musings. Looking up she saw the concerned face of her representative.
He hesitantly said. "Ms Patricia, your next match is ready to begin. Will... will you be coming with me to the arena?"
The young man had obviously overheard the words said by Francis at the end of her last bout. Her confidence was shaken. Her heart ached with guilt over Flicker. Her fears whispered her inadequacy as a breeder and her inferiority as a tamer. For the first time in her life she questioned her own fitness to work within the world of beasts, at all. Did she really think she could succed where so many others had failed? Did she still believe in her chosen course to becoming the very best? A catcher, a breeder, a tamer, what was she exactly? And who did she want to be?
She looked to her beasts. Crabs who was too injured to continue putting himself at risk. Blister who always struck true. Tox who believed her venom could overcome any obstacle. Buzz who reveled in her superiority over other beasts. Little Hope who had absolute and unquenchable faith in her master. And finally, Flicker who had paid the price for her own failings.
Patricia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She searched her heart and was suprised by what she found. She still wanted this. She still felt she could prove herself. She wasnt sure she agreed with what the way beasts were treated, but she knew she would never be satisfied if she walked away. She still believed in the strength in her resolve, and that of her beasts.
She smiled down at flicker cradled in her arms. "We always fight to win." She said simply and began to help load her cart with cages.