"If you're suggesting some kind of arrangement for the arenas, come out and say it," Shepard downed the lukewarm sugar-sludge in her cup at a gulp. The bottom had settled somewhat, and it was almost enough that the coffee required chewing, "If it's something else, I can't help you. I just got done healing up after the last time, and torture isn't as fun as it looks, believe me."

She was very proud of herself, and how easy it all sounded coming out of her. Sarcastic and flippant and easy, like a vid-star. It sounded good, and it felt like Thresher venom in her throat; or maybe that was just the coffee.