Dancing on the head of a pin

Well, you can't expect to make a big splash and gain notoriety and renown if you are out of shape, rusty, and lazy. You had to be buff and swole and whatever.

Or at least like... be practiced.

So Wendigo set off to the local battleground, smug and arrogant in the knowledge that here he was, prepping to put his plans into motion. Whether he won or lost his fights had never much bothered him, so nerves didn't figure into this at all because who cared? Not he. The fight was an enjoyable means to an end, and he'd get in better shape and more skilled whether he won or lost.

Eyeing the bones scattered around him with interest, the big Saxe wolf lifted his muzzle and sang out a cheerful invitation to anyone who was looking for a fight to try him on for size.