"You're William Aladfar Oirthear, right? The guy who lost to Vargrim...?" asked a tall, muscular, top-heavy man with dark-brown hair, handlebar-like horns, and a long tail covered in brown fur with a prominent tuft on the end. His outfit was reminiscent of a Karate Gi but muted yellow and missing the sleeves, and his waist, forearms, and much of his feet were bound in tattered, abrasive cloth, the type commonly used to wrap limbs before a fight.
"That's right. And you are...?" asked Will, sweeping his head from left to right to take in not just the man but the large group of Zoans that had gathered near the periphery of the forest, ostensibly to spectate his and the man's match or issue additional challenges.
"I am Johns, son of John and proud Warrior of the Zoafolk...!" exclaimed the man, thumping his chest as he added, "And I have come to challenge you, William Aladfar Oirthear, to a round of single combat!"
