Tuck had made his way to a seat, just in time to watch his partner walk out into the ring. Tuck felt his blood run cold as Will was joined in the ring by an absolute brick shithouse of a man. He had to be careful here, because he couldn’t react outwardly - he couldn’t do anything to make it obvious he knew anyone in the ring down there - but god... Will looked thinner than when Tuck had last seen him, and it was agony to have to sit there and not go to him.
God it was going to get so much worse. Tuck saw Will searching the crowd for a second, and he wondered if Will could sense his presence there. So Tuck joined in the randomly cheering punters, with a call of his own. He let out a whistle the Merry Men had used for centuries to identify themselves to each other across long distances. And this was his specific call, like shouting out ‘it’s Tuck!’ at the top of his lungs. Just as he finished his whistle, the bell sounded and the fight began.