~<strong><em>Ryann, in the baths, being prepared</em></strong>~<br/><br/>Even though to hear the wondrous lilt of her home flow from Rioghan's lips was the sweetest thing she'd known since her capture, his words brought her heart to stutter, brought her breath to hitch, and her fingers to grip tighter to his arm where her hand rested. Perhaps her nails even dug into flesh, enough to draw blood. And as this man with hair of flame gazed upon her with such concern, such a gentleness that belied his stature let alone his rank, her own gaze of  Irish green began to shimmer with un-shed tears. Her head would drop slightly, raven curls drifting against her youthful visage to hide the fact of her weakness, stray locks sliding over pert breasts.<br/><br/>But as he spoke of expectations of dying upon the Roman sands, those same eyes of a child grew fierce, glimmering with hatred. As he spoke of keeping by his side, of being compliant long enough to survive, her chin lifted, and the tears that had threatened to spill never did. Dropping her hand to her side she would give a curt nod to Rioghan, her gaze drifting about the bathhouse, taking in all the men surrounding her. Her posture took again that of warrior, strong shoulders lifting, a shift of her form easing now relaxed muscle. She, daughter of Ireland that she was, stood next to the Champion in naught but a loincloth and showing no sign of modesty. It was still a mystery on what exactly her fate was to be in this Ludus. She supposed she was to be a Gladiator. If so she would fight with every fiber of her being!<br/><br/>“<em>You are right my brother, and I thank you for your kindness. Though I know Death will find me soon enough, I vow that it will not be here in this hell. My feet shall feel the green lands of home, I shall smell the sweet air, and there... I will die..”</em><br/><br/>The Doctore swept in to tame and have the German removed, his fate unknown, but he was quickly forgotten. Ryann saw that the other new man, Cignetorix, easily slipped back into being quiet and watching his surroundings, and as her eyes slipped to Ammon once again, she couldn't stop the shiver that flowed through her sleek body. So fierce he was..so harshly beautiful. So enamored she was in sweeping her gaze over Ammon's form that when the Doctore snapped out orders she had to blink, and snap out of her reverie. Slaves were already scampering about, heading to each Gladiator respectively, and she found herself swept up as well. A scowl worked across her lovely brow, irritation setting in at hands leading her to a spot to be scraped and oiled. Was she to be put on display then?<br/><br/>