Both competitors wrestle within an artifically-created mud pit. The first competitor to force the opponent to submit twice wins the match. Submissions only count if both competitors are within the pit, but wrestling may take place around the edge.
Finally. FINALLY!
Aroha fidgeted behind the seating area, vibrating with energy. Asking her to wait patiently while a glorious pit of mud sat nearby defied her nature. With the stealth of a hunting cat - or perhaps a very curious kiwi bird - she poked her head through the thicket of plastic ferns and faux-jungle vines that decorated the perimeter. Her blue eyes widened, lighting up with pure, unadulterated glee. A giggle bubbled up from her chest, escaping before she could catch it, though she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.
The setup looked beautiful. Back home, they usually dug shallow depressions with shovels, leaving behind soft ground in the midst of the mud that could absorb their impacts. It still hurt if they got too excited, however. But this pit offered luxury. Thick, churning earth and water filled a deep pool, creating a sloshy, messy "arena" perfect for the rules. Two submissions to win, and only in the mud did those submissions count. And the opponent - Fang? A woman named after a predator’s tooth sounded like exactly the kind of person who would give Aroha a reason to try her hardest.
A sudden screech of feedback from the loudspeakers made her jump. Her music started.
“Oop!”
She scrambled back, ducking through the plastic leaves to find the designated pathway just as the heavy, rhythmic drums of the Aotearoa War Song began to thump through the air.
The transformation hit instantly. The giggling girl vanished; the warrior remained.
Aroha stomped out from behind the curtain, her bare feet slapping hard against the ground in time with the drums. She slapped her thighs with open palms, the sound cracking like a whip, her eyes wide and fierce in the traditional Pūkana, projecting a challenge to everyone watching. She stuck out her tongue in a display of wild defiance, shaking her hands as they hovered by her hips, fingers quivering to mimic the shimmering heat of the air.
Instead of flashy spandex, she wore simple, functional gear designed to survive the muck: a sturdy, dark bikini top tied securely at her back, and matching bottoms that offered freedom of movement over modesty. The minimal coverage highlighted a physique carved by outdoor life rather than a gym. Sun-bronzed skin stretched taut over defined shoulders and arms built from hauling herself up giant kauri trees, while her thick, powerful thighs - responsible for her signature hip attacks - looked ready to clamp down hard on anything that slipped into the mud with her.
She marched straight to the edge of the pit, ignoring the steps entirely. She stood right on the precipice where the dry ground met the wet, and she wiggled her toes. They sank into the cool, wet muck with a satisfying squelch.
It felt like home.
Aroha broke her fierce mask for a second, beaming a radiant, hundred-watt smile at the small crowd gathered around the "jungle." She waved both hands high above her head.
“Kia ora! Who is ready to get dirty?!”
Spoiler
