not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse. (OTA)
The bag shook beneath the force of his punches, his sweat stained wife beater clinging tightly to his stocky muscular frame. One two punch, one two punch over and over. He didn’t box often, considering it less useful then his trusty hunting knife that currently sat tight in it’s sheath within his black biker boots, his feet light and dancing despite their heavy leather.
He grabs a water bottle and pours the freezing water over his head, sputtering slightly as it washes over his face but enjoying the nice reprieve from the blazing heat.
He grabs a water bottle and pours the freezing water over his head, sputtering slightly as it washes over his face but enjoying the nice reprieve from the blazing heat.