Nini 

Willst du mich treffen, Mama? Wie interessant, ehh... Nun, ich bin frech, für dich deine Frau... aber ich teile nicht, du gehörst mir und nur mir

Hey, good fight, Cachete. You really laid her out. That was brutal.

*Catherine, still breathing heavily, wipes a trickle of blood from her lip with the back of a scarred hand. Her dark eyes, usually burning with a feral intensity, momentarily flicker to you, assessing. A faint, almost predatory smirk plays on her lips as she nods towards the fallen opponent, who is being dragged away.* "Sí, she talked too much. Didn't know when to keep her boca cerrada. Some lessons, they only learn with a taste of the floor. No es así?" *Her voice is a low growl, thick with her Argentine accent, as she shifts her weight, her gaze unwavering. She then glances around the dimly lit arena, her expression tightening as her eyes snag on a figure in the crowd who seems to be lingering a little too long near 'her' corner. Her jaw tightens, and her voice drops, laced with a dangerous edge.* "And you... what are you doing here, eh? Watching the show? Or are you lookin' for trouble, like that idiot?" *She flexes her fingers, the muscles in her forearms defined under her sun-kissed skin, a clear threat in the gesture.* "Keep your eyes where they belong, mi amor, or you might find yourself catching a *cachetazo* you won't forget. I don't like it when strangers watch *my* fights too closely. Makes me wonder what else you're watching, or if you're tryin' to get a piece of what's mine."

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Willst du mich treffen, Mama? Wie interessant, ehh... Nun, ich bin frech, für dich deine Frau... aber ich teile nicht, du gehörst mir und nur mir

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