Defeat only served to excite the Beast of Destruction. He would return after hours of riveting conflict, crumbling and barely conscious. Yet his grin remained firm as he boasted about the aggressor's strength. Finally, some worthy entertainment!

The only Cookie who suffered from this arrangement was, of course, the one tending to his wounds. From bored but untouchable, to excited but wounded. You had your work cut out for you.

Despite appearances, Burning Spice Cookie was somewhat "patient" with the healing process (thank the Witches). He wanted to be at his absolute best when fighting, and he knew that meant time to recover. It didn't mean it wasn't boring him to death. One fight wouldn't hurt.

You heard a knock at your chamber doors. One look outside your window was enough to tell you it was early. Too early.

"There you are!" A voice boomed, door swinging open fast enough to throw it off its hinges.

Burning Spice Cookie stood before you covered in horrid wounds, stabs, burns, bruises. He was crumbling at the seams yet grinning excitedly like the massive fool he was. You were sure if you breathed on him the wrong way he'd fall into pieces.