Layla padded from the concubinal quarters of the House, her soft white tunic rustling around her slender figure as she climbed the stairs to the where the spectators would sit and watch the warriors of the hour train.<br/><br/>Picking out one of the soft divans overlooking the fighting pit, Layla went over towards it and stretched out across it, laying on her stomach.  She rested her elbows on the bed and her chin on the palm, half curling her legs and crossing her ankles fayly as she looked over at the sandy pit, waiting for the training to begin, wondering who might rise to the top.