Her mouth twisted in distaste at the memory that brought, of men leering at flames and a bastard whose face she didn't know. "There are, yes," she agreed darkly, hand tightening on the ax handle before she left it where it was to rest in the dummy.

"I can see the appeal in changing. Now it's only mostly children, with a few adults who know what they're doing. Perfect for bloodshed and underdogs." But she turned around to lean against the dummy, crossing her arms in front of her, not smiling but controlling the burst of anger all the same. "And sometimes a few of those who fight end up clashing with each other instead of riding down babies."