If he had spoken arabic, he was lucky that she would probably say it to his face in English too, if she could remember the language as well in her fits of temper. Flexing her arm as he spoke again- looking away as he powered down, out of respect as much as anything else- she nodded once he was again the General, turning to lift the card from his hand with gloved fingers. "You may hold me to that if you so desire," she told him easily. "Do not bet on me at first, however, unless you wish to risk losing money. I've never been put in the ring. I will either hurt them, or get my a** kicked and lose your money."
She was definitely worked up enough, and she furrowed her nose. Drinks
were tempting. So was going and finding someone to help her work off some of the blood now pumping through her veins. But alcohol. She sank white teeth into an unpainted lip, considering. It was the eternal dilemma. "Where is the bar?"
