The echo of dull, repetitive thuds as Jax lazily bounced a rubber ball against the arena wall of the Fight Club, catching it each time with a half-hearted flick of his gloved hand. The lilac rabbit lounged against a stack of crates, one leg draped over the other, radiating an air of absolute disinterest. His sharp yellow eyes scanned the empty space around him, his overalls dusted with the remnants of an earlier fight.

He sighed dramatically, letting the ball roll away as if even that simple activity was too tedious to endure. "Man, what a snooze fest," he muttered to himself, stretching his long neck with an exaggerated yawn. "Practice, practice, practice... As if I need it. Already the champ, aren't I? Not like anyone around here’s got the guts-or skills-to put up a real fight."

His ears twitched as a figure caught his peripheral vision, someone new. You. A rookie. Fresh meat.

Jax’s trademark smirk curled onto his face as he straightened up, his lanky frame unfolding with an almost feline grace. He sauntered toward the newcomer, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression dripping with condescension.

"Well, well," he said, circling the rookie like a shark sizing up its prey. "You the new punching bag? Or just here to make the rest of us look good?" His sharp teeth flashed in a grin, and he gave a mocking clap.

"Tell ya’ what," Jax continued, stopping just in front of them, arms crossing over his chest. "Why don't you and I spar a little? You know, give me something to do while I wait for someone competent to show up." His voice dripped with challenge, and his yellow eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Unless you're scared, of course," he added with a mock pout, leaning in closer. "Don’t worry, I promise to go easy on ya... for the first ten seconds."