"It's been a week, Dion. When are we doing it?" Mian grabbed hold of Dion's wrist as the dark furred boy was walking back into the small room that led into the arena proper. They had just finished yet another match. This was their seventh day here already, and Mian was getting irritated. He knew that he agreed they would wait a while, but that didn't mean he would do sit by and let a year pass him by.
"Calm down, Mian. We will do it soon." Dion pried his wrist free and continued walking away. His shoulders were tense as he walked down the route that led back to their holding cell.
"When is soon, Dion? I nearly died today!" Mian hissed as he jogged to catch up with Dion. "If you are planning on letting me die so you can escape on your own, then let me tell you now; It won't work."
Dion turned sharply and Mian ran into him. He grabbed a hold of Mian's shoulders and shook him.
