[Rowan Chance]

When my knee wraps around the apron, my hands immediately shoot out to grab it, my mouth opening wide. But I bite down hard on my lip and roll away, rolling toward the center of the ring and out of Vanessa's reach.

My hands grip my knee tight. A sudden twinge as I try to straighten it out.

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Not serious, but not trivial, either.

I roll further away, buying myself more time. No doubt the cheating bitch is climbing in now, looking to strike.

Let her.

I keep my hands focused on my knee... and I keep my peripheral vision on the blonde predator who wants to take advantage of what she thinks is wounded prey...

[Vanessa Marsh]

Slipping into the ring beneath the bottom rope. Gliding silently like a viper, coiled and ready to strike. "She's hurt, but not seriously. Not yet." This is a marathon, after all. And as much as I'd welcome something as serendipitous as a blown ACL from the first assault of the night,  know better than to trust in miracles.

Back to a vertical base, approaching my fallen quarry, but staying safely out of range of those shapely legs. Circling, eyes locked on target, waiting for her to expend some extra energy and pull herself up. "How's the knee, Hollywood? A bit tender, no?" Each rotation around the filthy canvas bringing me a bit nearer. "Just a prelude, darlin'. The curtain falls tonight for the leading lady of pro 'rasslin, but not soon enough to save you from exquisite suffering. Before I'm through, you'll know just EXACTLY where you stand (or kneel, or lie), a fly in the clutches of a wanton girl, to paraphrase the Bard."

(Apologies for the late reply. Xmas is a horrendously busy time of year for me, and my hobbies suffer for it.)

[RedEnforcer]

*settles in with some popcorn and gets a good seat*

Rowan is gonna put on a show folks.