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Description
An early scene from my current project.

When the petty and vindictive Sobe makes an enemy of an unstable young man by getting him disqualified from a once-in-a-lifetime mating fight, he takes revenge by sabotaging the match and attempting to murder her brother in the ring.
He picked the wrong guy though, and the repercussions will reach clear across their arm of the Milky Way.

…Oh, context?
Back when skithtiri were uncivilized savages they would dig a deep pit in the jungle. Whenever a tak’shin went into heat all the males interested in her would be tossed into that pit and whoever climbed out won breeding rights.

That was many hundreds of years ago of course, and society has long since moved on from such barbaric traditions.
Now fights are carefully scheduled in brightly lit arenas, the contestants are kept to reasonable numbers and similar weight classes, and everyone wears locked muzzles and rubber stoppers on their mandible fangs. Although snapped cartilage, torn and crushed muscles and ligaments, internal bleeding, and brain damage aren’t as uncommon as one might hope, it’s pretty rare for anyone to actually die from a fight.
Oh, and they broadcast and sell tickets to the more interesting matches. It’s kind of like a cross between reality TV and professional wrestling.
Progress, see?

The muzzle design was originally going to be some sort of fancy metal futuristic construct, but that was before I realized the inevitable repercussions of that idea.
So we’ll say it’s Kevlar or spider silk or carbon nanotubes or something locked in place.

Description
An early scene from my current project.

When the petty and vindictive Sobe makes an enemy of an unstable young man by getting him disqualified from a once-in-a-lifetime mating fight, he takes revenge by sabotaging the match and attempting to murder her brother in the ring.
He picked the wrong guy though, and the repercussions will reach clear across their arm of the Milky Way.

…Oh, context?
Back when skithtiri were uncivilized savages they would dig a deep pit in the jungle. Whenever a tak’shin went into heat all the males interested in her would be tossed into that pit and whoever climbed out won breeding rights.

That was many hundreds of years ago of course, and society has long since moved on from such barbaric traditions.
Now fights are carefully scheduled in brightly lit arenas, the contestants are kept to reasonable numbers and similar weight classes, and everyone wears locked muzzles and rubber stoppers on their mandible fangs. Although snapped cartilage, torn and crushed muscles and ligaments, internal bleeding, and brain damage aren’t as uncommon as one might hope, it’s pretty rare for anyone to actually die from a fight.
Oh, and they broadcast and sell tickets to the more interesting matches. It’s kind of like a cross between reality TV and professional wrestling.
Progress, see?

The muzzle design was originally going to be some sort of fancy metal futuristic construct, but that was before I realized the inevitable repercussions of that idea.
So we’ll say it’s Kevlar or spider silk or carbon nanotubes or something locked in place.