[h3][center][i]Chikako Momomiya // The Arena[/i][/center][/h3]

For the majority of the trip, Chi had tuned just about everyone out. She had stayed close to the Wanderer—the only one she truly trusted out of this band of misfits. Compared to how the group had found her, she was a bit subdued. This was mainly because of the toll saving the village they had just come from had taken on her bones. She would have preferred being able to sleep under a nice tree or swim in a nearby river, but when the Prince and his Sentinels marched, they _marched._

In her lifetime, she had heard of Gurata and their methods of decision. She’d be lying if she said that she’d never want to go to Gurata to participate in their Arena battles, wanting to test her skills against the gladiators. Plus, she just loved the thrill of a good match.

The politics were lost to her as she leaned against one of the worn stone walls, hands in the pockets of her sweater. Her pinkish eyes examined the room they were in, taking in the pock-marked floors and the way it felt more like a warrior’s barrack than some place to deal politics.

She was starting to fall asleep, her position against the wall more than comfortable enough for her, when Cyril added his own marking to the floor, punctuated by the declaration of a decision through battle. It woke her up and she watched with a raised eyebrow and a growing smirk as the terms were set. It would be Seryosa versus Cyril, certainly a match that would rouse the crowds more than usual.

Her subdued state left her to observe those who were willing—or unwilling, in the case of the Paladin’s boy—to volunteer their battle prestige to the Prince. She half-expected the Wanderer to offer himself, however she figured that after the slight run-in with the Direwolf was enough to make the Wanderer keep to the shadows. Her eyes watched as, one by one, the eight spots for fighters diminished. After Vesta—or Joy or whatever the hell she wanted to be called, the Cripple in Chi’s mind—claimed a spot for herself, Chi left the wall and approached the Prince. If the Wanderer had something to say, well, it’d have to wait.

[b]”Count me in.”[/b]