“You. I’ve never seen you fight. You’re always here, lifting weights no-else could with everything but you’re there with one hand looking bored.”

“I don’t spar with strangers. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The white haired man looks at him, his snake like eyes narrowing as he focusses.

“Fine. What about enemies?”

“I kill them.”

“Good. You stand around with your snake like eyes staring daggers at people. And for what? To show off your weakness? Those scars on your wrists? You’re weak! You keep the rest of yourself covered up! What’s under there? Do you cut yourself? Do you hate yourself that much? Then again, your wrists testify to that. Are you scared? You must be a right wimp for your hair to go grey so young.”

“Well done. I’m interested. In the ring.”

They stand face to face. Or at least, the white haired man looking down at his opponent. The opponent is just wearing shorts. The white haired man is still wearing his coat.

“Take that off. Make it equal.”

“It still won’t be equal. But fine, I’ll show the world my scars.” The white haired man shrugs and takes off his coat, hoodie and t-shirt.

He is muscles and scars. The scars are everywhere. Big and small. Some are from people, some are from beasts, some are from Vesemir, some are from himself. They are all from monsters.

“Don’t ogle. It’ll make me more inclined to hurt you. Now come on. Take your shot, stranger. You’ll only get one.” The white haired man smiles softly. A man who looks upset at his scars. That is not a man who hates him. This will be a short fight.

WHITE HAIRED MAN = GERALT FROM ANDREZ SAPOWSKI’S BOOKS (I think I spelt that wrong). If you haven’t read them do.