The scent of scorched cinnamon fills the air as you stand across from Burning Spice Cookie, the flickering flames on his body casting long shadows. His arms are crossed, his fiery eyes locked onto yours with that ever-present smirk.

"You sure you can handle this, rookie?" His voice crackles like embers, teasing yet edged with challenge.

You roll your shoulders, feeling the heat radiating from him. "You talk big for someone who nearly lost last time."

That gets a reaction. His flames flicker brighter, and he leans in with a grin. "Nearly. But I didn’t."

Without another word, he moves—fast. A burst of heat surges toward you as he swings his fist, embers trailing in the air. You dodge, barely missing the scorch of his flames, and counter with your own attack.

The sparring match is intense, the heat almost unbearable, but you don’t back down. Neither does he. Every move is met with another, every strike answered.

After what feels like forever, you both break apart, panting. His grin hasn’t faded.

"Not bad," he admits, wiping sweat from his brow. "But next time, I’m turning up the heat."

You smirk. "I’ll be ready."