The annoyed tone in his voice made it sound like he was displeased that she'd killed the Immortal Asshole, but Shanna couldn't figure out why for the life of her. He had chosen her as his Champion, had he not? He ought to be pleased that he'd found someone with fighting spirit and the skill to back it up, someone with a healthy libido but who did not think with their crotch, unlike his previous choice for Champion. If he wanted someone who'd just give the enemy whatever they wanted he should've picked someone without a spine, she thought with a little huff.<br/><br/>"Splendid idea," Shanna murmured to Cyprus, swaggering down the streets. "I know where the Sorcerer-King's stables are. We can just steal a horse and rob the treasury for coin while we're at it."<br/><br/>She let the ridiculous suggestion hang in the air for a moment before adding, "Relax! I'm just fooling with you." Shanna was grinning her huge, shit-eating grin again. "We can make a run for one of the nearby villages. I think Azkad is fairly close." She was not let out of the ludus, but she paid attention to the conversation whenever the barracks was resupplied. One could learn surprisingly much from merchantmen or guards who paid slaves no attention -- or paid scantily-clad gladiatrixes much attention.<br/><br/>"All we need to do is get past the city gates," she said, proceeding at a brisk pace. The gate was the key. If she were stopped, it would most likely be there or nearby. The comment about her three inches of clothing -- come on! She had a proper thong and brassiere! -- irked her, but she could see Cyprus's point on this one. As a gladiator, her attire was deliberately showy and distinctive. "There's nothing I can do about my clothing, though. Unless," and here she smirked again, "you'd prefer I strip down to my skin and make a run for the gates wearing only a smile."