Terry was happy to find that the gyms were the same, and that they were ready to let him in the ring was such an additional joy. It was funny to think that such a voilent sport could calm him down, but to terry it was more than a brawl. It took the strategic thinking of chess, the finesse and dexterity of dancing, the brutality of war, and the determination that was all it's own. He fought with his heart and not his fist, which was something many other people could never understand. reading him was easy if you could first realize this. snapping out his trance as he was yelled at by the coach to enter the octogan terry quickly slipped on his gloves over his fist wraps. He no longer wore his formal wear but rather a short pair of vale todu shorts (hehehe those are very tight) and padded mma gloves that let the tips of his fingers show. His opponent was a large and stocky man, appearing much more muscular and powerful then the lanky terry. They were both very tan. 

A bell rung as they both pulled up there guard and advanced towards each other, terry pulled the opponent into the thia clench, throwing knees at the boy's stomach with great stride as the foe struggled to move out of his grip. As terry's hands began to slip and he realized his foe was moving to close the range and throw side blows he knew he must make his move fast. Spinning behind the enemy quickly he grabbed him behind his waist and swung back for a suplex and smashed his foe into the ground only scurry away from him and stand in his corner. By now he had realized he was dealing with a striker, as he made no attempt to keep the battle on the ground and was defenseless against the clench and take down he had given. Terry smirked as he looked to the striker as he stood up. They had a minute left in there little match, he knew this would be his time to shine. Quickly coming in to throw a series of body blows, many of them missed. In a sudden change he grabbed the striker's arm and swung it towards the ground in a judo style hip throw. quickly going down with his foe terry put the man in a headlock and swivled to put the opponent's head to the ground, his legs locked around the base of the body and the opposite arm torquing the foes arm. It was a quick submission called the guillotine. Walking out of the rink he realized how many shots had been take, in the heat of the moment he lost all thought an absorbed quiet a few blows to the head. He had bruising on the left side of his ribcage and a large red mark on his right cheek. Hopping a shower would help sooth his now painful wounds terry thanked his attacker and stepped into a shower and quickly wiped the sweat away. As he began to finish with his hair, terry remembered an aweful thought. He had forgotten his towel to a girl earlier that day. Panicking at first but quickly realizing he could live without a dry shirt Terry dawned upon his extra pair of cloths and walked on.