"Hah," the woman barked out a single solitary laugh.  She stretched sinewy arms, corded with muscles above her head and began jogging in place.  "A woman after my own heart.  Fair enough, you see my tastes,"  She nodded to the defeated monk, Susa who's juices were beginning to flow down the chair, "So if you're willing to get your ass handed to you, I'll be willing to let you taste mine afterwards."<br/><br/>She bounced on the balls of her feet and moved into the sparring circle, a large thirty foot section of sand with soft round pebbles on the outside as other monks gathered to watch and quietly whisper.  The odds, if the whispering was anything, did not favor Ylene.