Varius would look the man square into the eyes with his fierce gaze.  And in a low voice as rough as the seas within a tempest he would respond "Sand, blood, bones, and......." he turned to look at the slave whom seemed to not have the stomach for the market "bile, master." He said as he stood there flexing his fists a little bit.  His blood churned slightly at the thought of a challenge from anyone, anything placed in his path.  Staring back at the Trainer was the only thing keeping him in his place.  After that said he would go silent, letting the breeze draw, dry and flip his hair about his face.  His eyes remained focused upon the trainer, thou he could see out of the corner of his eyes the figures that stared down upon him in judgment.