Looking at the gear options with some distaste, Lensea is absentmindedly wrapping and re-wrapping the leather bindings she wears over her hands and wrists; a clear sign that she's more than a little preoccupied with the fight to come.  Eventually she sighs and pulls a spear and shield off the rack, acknowledging the reality of the situation of the impending cavalry battle.  Similarly to Kay, she'd taken a knife to the provided uniform as well, although her modifications had been just to remove the sleeves and slit the sides down most of the length of the shirt to give her more range of motion with her arms.<br/><br/>Smirking at Kay's outburst, she moves over to the exit into the arena proper and leans against the wall nearby.  "Damn straight.  We all know what the audience thinks of us, but there's no better way to ensure a capacity crowd than to put the crowd favorites at risk, and it lets them maybe get rid of some too-popular fighters at the same time.  That said, I'm never going to say no to an opportunity to ruin some overconfident bookie's month and get a good meal in the process."  Twirling the spear in her hand experimentally, the gives the others a wide grin.  They hadn't fought with each other much, and almost never all at the same time, but there was one tradition that almost all of the veteran fighters in the barracks regularly indulged in.  "On that note, standard bets for first and last kill, or did you all want to up the ante a bit for such a...noteworthy fight?"