<strong>~Ryann, collared and threatened~</strong><br/><br/>One moment she was reveling in the fight, the next a whip was snapping, slaves were scrambling, and she was collared and shoved against the hot wall beneath the balcony in the training yard.<br/><br/>She had heard the words about her hair, and vanity had swiftly set in. Shave her head? Never! Her deft fingers were swiftly working her long mane into a braid even as the Doctore came to her, harsh eyes gazing deeply into her own as he saw what she had done. Simply a nod and a grunt would be given at what she had done with her thick locks, all before the metallic clank of the collar rang though her ears, and the heavy feeling settled about her throat.<br/><br/>So wanted to rebel, she wanted to howl her rage, she wanted to slit the throats of all around her, but she knew better. Slitted eyes watched the goings on around her, the cleaning of the mess hall, the scurrying of slaves, and she had once again lost herself in though as sweat trickled over her now dirty flesh, until the arrival of the Dominus once again. From a slightly lowered head, shoulders tight she watched him, her tension rising as he seemed to make a choice, and gestured for her to come. Slow steps were taken, and though her head remained low, her eyes were locked upon him, this man who had purchased her. His whisper, though soft, made it to her ears well enough, and she froze.<br/><br/>“ The Domina will know what to do with you..”<br/><br/>As he turned and walked away, her entire body began to shake with rage. The Domina? His wife? She was no house slave! She was no simpering female to be set into a dress and made to pose pretty! She was a WARRIOR! She was made to fight on the sands! Her nostrils were flaring, her fists clenched tight as her chest rose and fell swiftly, harsh words so needing to be screamed out dying on lush lips.<br/><br/>The Domina? Fine... let them see what setting her within the House as a pretty would get them. Oh just let them see...