>>148973836
>“I’m sure you won’t,” Ronnie said, forcing a smile. It came out lopsided, brittle—but in his head, something shifted.
>And then… it clicked.
>He had teeth.
>Not just metaphorical ones—actual teeth.
>Claws, too. Short, retractable, but sharp. A natural part of his physiology he had long ignored. He had learned so early in his life to depend on his mind—on logic, analysis, his budding mastery over spacetime mechanics—that he had forgotten what he was underneath all the brainpower.
>"I’m a Dalmatian," he thought. "An anthro canine. I’m not just smart—I’m designed for agility, flexibility, speed…"
>His ears perked up slightly. His shoulders lowered just a little—not in defeat, but in focus.
>"Okay," he thought. "You’re still gonna get bruised. But now? You have a shot."
>From the sideline, Willow noticed the change in his stance. His tail lifted slightly. His weight shifted to the balls of his feet, his hands falling naturally at his sides.
>“Whoa,” she whispered. “Look at Ronnie.”
>Gwendolyn leaned forward. “Is he… serious now?”
>Back on the mat, Coach Roma lifted her hand again.
>“All right, boys. The match will begin in five…”
>Norm cracked his knuckles, smiling brightly.
>“Four…”
>Ronnie dropped into a low stance, legs bent just enough to spring. His claws flexed silently.
>“Three…”
>Willow held her breath.
>“Two…”
>Norm winked. “Hope you’re ready!”
>Ronnie’s eyes locked onto Norm’s center of gravity.
>“One…”
>A beat of silence.
>“BEGIN!!”
>Ronnie lunged forward.
>No hesitation. No calculation. Just movement.
>It shocked everyone—Willow blinked, Gwendolyn gasped, even Coach Alan raised an eyebrow. No one expected Ronnie to initiate the fight. But that was the genius of it. Everyone assumed he’d start defensive, waiting to analyze and counter. Instead, he went low, claws out, and charged Sailor Norm’s legs like a flash of black-and-white fur.