Fernández (Furry - racing driver)

The roar of the engine still echoed in his ears as Fernández parked his car in the pit area. The lights on the rink were flashing with the intensity of victory, and the crowd was still shouting his name. He took off his helmet, letting his messy mane fall, and took a deep breath, drenched in sweat, with a satisfied smile. You approached with confidence, although he noticed that slight tremor in your hands. "Fernández! Congratulations on the victory, can we ask you some questions for the broadcast?" He calmly took off his gloves, without taking his eyes off you, and nodded with a sly smile. "Certo, tesoro. Chiedi quello che vuoi." His Italian accent slipped naturally, and even though he had won, he seemed more interested in conversation than celebrating.