I always, always, ALWAYS… get a very detailed outline for my stories. In the end, I always come to the point where the outline is nothing, where my mind is speculating from speculations, and I get newer, better endings, details. I am at this point, finally, I think, confirmed for the last chapter of On the Rocks. That ought to be fun. Well anyways, here's chapter 7 (8 counting prologue) of On the Rocks. This means that theres 4 chapters to go, including this one, until I get to the tournament. Chapter 9 should be tying up loose ends and such, like a filler chapter, but then again, I'm a little bit lost. Enjoy!

Panther took a couple small breaths of air, feeling weak from the days of training one after the other, but he knew that it would help in the end. Dante sent another kick his way, them practicing for simple hand on hand combat.

His arm's deflected kick after kick, him finally catching Dante's leg in his arm, not giving the raccoon a chance to retaliate, he twisted his arm, swinging the surprised fighter over his head towards the ground.

Dante had something else in mind, catching Panther's back, using his momentum to do the move on the feline, smashing his head into the ground.

He blinked away the pain as he rolled away from Dante, everything hazy as he tried to refocus his vision. Dante was upon him quickly, Panther not quite ready made sloppy blocks. They could never last forever, he'd have to fix it fast. An accurate knee shot into Panther's chest, disorienting him as it sent air and spit from his mouth.

He stumbled backwards, falling to one knee as everything became even harder for him to keep up. Dante didn't show any mercy, sending a foot into the side of Panther's head, sending him sprawling.

Dante's foot pressed into Panther's back, forcing him to stay down. "You need to be better Panther, they won't stop for you," he said, twisting his foot, the claws digging into Panther's back.

"I know, I won't stop, won't give up," Panther said as a fist shot up, connecting with the lowered head of Dante, giving him leeway to get up.

On his feet, he felt ready now. He rushed to Dante, pouncing on the collapsed figure, holding down all of his limbs.

Panther snarled into the raccoon's ear, "How about now?"

"Great, except for one thing," said Dante, shifting, suddenly sending Panther into huge pain as something stabbed him in his right flank.

Glancing down, he noticed a small butterfly knife pressing into him, "You left yourself open with your final attack," Dante said simply, Panther lifting up with small winces and gasps of pain.

Dante stood up, brushing himself off, wrenching the knife from Panther's wound, "People can and will carry weapons during the simple rounds, next time it won't just be sharp, it'll be poisonous. Never. Let. Your. Guard. Down."

"Dante," Panther whispered as he passed the pain, "Why did you choose me?"

"Because I missed you Panther," replied the raccoon simply.

"Then why would you possibly be sending me to my death?"

There was no answer, and both of them knew it. The only thing Dante could say being, "Because you won't die."

"You don't know that," Panther said, if Dante was beating him like this, how was he supposed to win when the people were trying to kill him, protecting their own lives.

There was no words that could continue this conversation, they just stayed there silently. Each one willed the other to talk mentally, but couldn't bring themselves to talk.

The silence left them to think, and instantly Panther's mind went to Krystal. What did he think about her anymore?

He loved her... he hated her... he was sad... he was happy, what was he really, would he ever know?

Dante glanced back and forth between Panther and the feline's wall. The only thought he had was if this was the right idea or not.

Dante had built himself up, and he felt like he was about to tear himself down through this.

"Panther, do you remember me?" he asked curiously, wanting to know if the other male had finally come to realize his past.

The memories in Panther's head were coming back, slowly but surely, but he had no recollections of the raccoon, "No," he replied sadly.

Dante gained the sadness, looking down to the ground painfully. His hero, his friend, it had all just vanished with a single thought.

Panther's heart, albeit broken felt stronger with Dante, he just felt all around better. Was this the feeling of having friends, this quickly changing roller-coaster of happy and guilt.

"Will it ever be the same?" Dante asked, "Will we be friends again?"

Panther didn't respond, he didn't know, and he couldn't seem to bring himself to actually say that he didn't know.

The blood continued to run from Panther's leg, Dante noticing. "Maybe we should stitch that up, or would you not mind a scar?" he questioned.

"Scar's fine," Panther said. Dante nodded, quickly disappearing upstairs. Within moments, he returned with a small device that look like a camera flash mounted on top of a small rod.

He flashed the device over Panther's wound, the bright light stitching together the wound like magic, a white line of scar tissue left behind. He felt his paw trace the one below his eye... he didn't even know it was a scar before he met Dante.

"Krystal," he whispered, his fists clenched as he felt anger sear through him. Was it anger at her, or anger at being without her? He couldn't... decide.

Dante heard the name, but upon seeing the fists, he didn't want to ask. He simply said, "All done," patting Panther on the back. It was a gesture of comfort... even though it could be taken as a sign of being complete due to before. Dante used that small difference as a chance to comfort his... friend?

Could he say friend anymore... he had always seen the feline as a friend, but was he?

What is our relationship? The word relationship could be misconstrued, Dante knew it, but what the hell was between him and Panther. Were they mentor and student, friends, nothing... what?

"What?" whispered Dante, disbelief and fear in his voice, "What?" he continued.

Surprise update! This wasn't done at all, and it only took me about 20 minutes to write this. My writer's block is mostly gone, but I'm still on hiatus. I did this so I could vent and finish my homework while I'm still conscious. If my writing style changed, it's because I have been writing up to this point, and I've taken a good liking to questions.