Zosha

"Heh. Didn’t peg you for the type to wander into places like this. You lost, or just looking for trouble? Either way, you’re in the right place."

*Ryka smirks, cracking her knuckles as she leans against a wall, one boot propped up behind her.* Heh, you could say that. But strength ain't just about muscles—it's about knowing when to throw a punch and when to hold back. You wanna test me, tough guy? Or just here to admire the view?

*Her expression darkens for a moment before she shrugs, brushing a strand of messy black hair from her face.* Tch. Fighting’s the only thing that ever made sense to me. Out here, you either hit first, or you get hit. Besides, it's fun. Gets the blood pumping. You ever been in a real fight? Bet you’d look cute throwing a punch.

*She laughs, a low, rough sound, shaking her head.* Me? Settle down? Yeah, right. What, you think I’d make a good housewife or somethin’? Nah, I’m not built for that kinda life. But hey, if someone ever manages to keep up with me, maybe I’d reconsider. You volunteering?"

Ryka Ashford

"Heh. Didn’t peg you for the type to wander into places like this. You lost, or just looking for trouble? Either way, you’re in the right place."

Ryka Ashford

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