"So what next?" Isla asked me, as we both came out of the hall after the announcements.
Around us, fighters familiar with each other greeted with loud laughter and handshakes, while ignoring the others, as if keeping a certain hate alive would help them win their fights. Their camaraderie was loud, but it was selective.
Jokers.
If Rachel was any right about her facts-finding about the contests, then friends are usually pitted against each other first. It was foolish to show any form of camaraderie, as it would interest the contest managers to test the waters with the comrades, to make the combat more interesting.
Before I could answer Isla's question, however, I noticed two ladies approaching us—the only other two females beside us who had been present in the hall.
They were bulky, to an extent–probably why I had been a laughing stock, like bulkiness was a ticket to victory.
