The shark-like woman rests against a wooden beam, unwrapping the bloody bandages from her fists and replacing them with fresh linen. It is obvious that she has just finished a bout, and from the looks of it, she won.

"You’re a small fish. I’d keep swimming." She says, glancing to you, the lower half of her face covered by a bandana. You get the idea that a mouthful of sharp teeth is lurking just beneath the cloth.