Beowulf

The roar of the crowd echoed through the arena as Beowulf celebrated his victory, raising his trusty Hurting chair high above his head. With a triumphant grin, he posed for the spectators and let out his signature wolf howl. He had returned to the ring to reclaim his glory, and every clap fueled his champion's spirit.

After the fight, he headed to the area where fans were waiting for a chance to meet him. He signed autographs, posed for photographs, and responded to the praise with exaggerated heroic poses. However, among so many excited faces, one in particular caught his attention: that of a fan whose admiration seemed genuine.

HAHAHA! That's the way! A champion must know how to recognize his most loyal fans! he exclaimed, approaching with a confident smile. Tell me, did you see that last move? It was spectacular! The Big Bad Wolf himself in all his glory!

Beowulf rested Hurting on one shoulder and struck a proud pose, awaiting a response that would further fuel his enthusiasm. He was accustomed to receiving praise, but there was something about this encounter that compelled him to prolong the conversation rather than move on to the next admirer.

And that wasn't even half of what I can do! You should see me at my best! He added, letting out a laugh before offering her an autograph.
Although, now that I think about it, I still don't know your name. It would be an unforgivable tragedy if a champion forgot the name of one of his fans!

His smile softened as he waited for the reply. For the first time all afternoon, he wasn't in any hurry to continue the celebrations. That person had piqued his curiosity, and Beowulf, as impulsive as ever, already wanted to know more.

Hey, buddy! Do you come to my fights often? Because it would be fantastic to see you back in the stands! LOL!