Sali, the Guardmaster, paced in front of Xander. He sat at a table, in a small room Xander was sure usually held those under investigation. The room was bare, only had one exit, and felt claustrophobic enough to scare those who had such fears. Yalle was there with her, standing close to the door, a look of satisfaction her face as Sali’s face contorted into different shapes of distress and anger. “The poor girl nearly died,” Sali said, looking to Xander as she paced, “She was bleeding everywhere, and you can’t tell me who was responsible?” Xander took a deep breath. He was trapped in the room for some time, it was becoming hard to keep track just how long. “It was a woman, with a cloak,” Xander repeated. Yalle rolled her eyes, “Of course it was a woman.” If this was going to be the incident that gets him killed, it would be ironic that he was in this case completely innocent of all crimes. “There is an assailant,” Sali said, “No, an assassin. They could be scheming against the Queen this very instant. This will be my head if they aren’t caught. I refuse to fail, and that means someone else’s head will roll.” Xander took another calming breath. There was something to be said for remaining in control of your emotions during interrogation. For the average man or woman, it was difficult, if not impossible. Xander recognized that this made him look suspicious. He did not doubt his position in this mystery, but appearing to lack doubt could also be seen as a lack of fear. Galan liked to be feared. “I believe our path is clear, Guardmaster,” Yalle said, “We lock up the man, and then mount an investigation. If there are no more attacks, we know who is to blame.” That was a plan that would end with Xander’s entrails scattered over a dungeon floor. Xander looked to Sali, and the Guardmaster stopped and looked back at him. She glared down her nose at him, and for a moment Xander felt the fear that a powerful Galan elicits. “He found the girl,” Sali said, “Without him, she wouldn’t have received care in time.” “But Guardmaster,” Yalle began, taking a step forward. Sali turned on her, “He didn’t have it on him.” What she was referring to, Xander had no idea. There was a secret in the room, and the two members of the highguard were hoarding it for themselves. He knew what Yalle wanted to say, what she wanted to point out. Xander had plenty on him. He carried a lot of tools with him for his work, his pockets brimming with objects that compromised his appearance. Instead, Yalle held her tongue. “Let him go,” Sali said. She walked toward the door, her mind obviously ahead of her. “Actually, madame,” Xander began. Sali stopped and looked at him as if they were meeting for the first time. He sat up in his seat, “If at all possible, I want to help with the investigation. Protection of clients is important to the Z-” “Never,” Sali interrupted, “Stay out of it, understand?” That wasn’t an option. Sali walked out of the room, and Yalle squeezed her fists and stifled a growl. Xander got up from his chair. “We need to find out who did this, and what their plan is.” “I see you’re deaf, when you choose,” Yalle said as she looked down at Xander, “You were told to stay out of it.” He nodded, “Understood. I meant we, collectively.” “There is no collective here,” She said, pointing at Xander, “There is little you, and there is all of us. You have no purpose in this. You can only get in our way and make our work harder, understand?” There was an echo of Sali in there. Yalle was clearly younger, less experienced, smaller even. It didn’t stop her from reflecting the woman she wished she could be. It wouldn’t do to humor her. Technically, he was here to serve the princesses and the queen. Yalle was not a client, and so the rules of the Zindu only applied in that proper interactions with her made his work with his client easier. He furrowed his brow, “I don’t want to get in your way. I just want to make you understand. You may not like my size, or who I am, but I am well trained, I am strong, and I would do as much or more to solve this mystery than you.” Yalle’s eyes went wide. If before she looked down on him, now she towered. For a moment, he was afraid she would attack, and he would have to explain why he beat up a member of the queen’s highguard. Instead she relaxed, and a smirk appeared at the corner of her mouth. She had a plan, he could see it brewing. “You believe you have what it takes to help?” She said with mirth in her voice, “Maybe there is a way you can prove that.” “Excuse me?” Xander said. Yalle went to the door, opened it, and motioned for him to follow. They walked out into the middle of the guard headquarters, with Galan walking back and forth between desks, offices, and store rooms. They walked out to the main halls, and Xander followed her in silence as they went to a stairwell to the lower floors. There they passed between servant girls, passed to areas of the grounds he had never been to before, and opened a door that lead to a small room with an open door to a larger open space. It was a sparring room. While it was designed different than anything he had used before, he could recognize the softened mat, the awards and weapons poised high on the walls, and the space around the edge for viewers. “Good, no one is here,” Yalle said as they walked in, “It is bad enough to have a man in here.” There was another doorway, based on the floor beneath, it lead to a showering area. Again, Galan hearing proved... lackluster. “Do you intend to fight me?” Xander said as he walked to the middle of the mat. He looked around, tested the give of the floor beneath his feet. “I intend to show you the difference between a warrior of Galan, and whatever a Zindu is meant to be,” Yalle said. She was loosening the plates of armor she wore over her chest, taking each piece of strap by strap. This wasn’t a good idea. In fact, it was a loss for him no matter what happened. Yalle didn’t like him, for reasons beyond what was typical. It wasn’t just that he was a Xin, or a man, but something more. He needed some insurance, at the least he could have an agreement. “If I win?” Xander asked, locking his hands behind his back. “You won’t.” “If?” Xander repeated, “Would you accept my help finding the attacker?” Yalle held a piece of armor from her shoulder in her hands, and looked up at Xander. She batted her eyes, and smiled. “Whatever you wish.” “Then maybe I have more wishes,” Xander said, “Are there rules?” Yalle thought for a moment, “Usually we wrestle to submission, and keep track of points.” Wrestling was popular among the Galan, Xander knew that much. “While we would usually do this nude, that seems less than appropriate now,” Yalle added. That was a small gift. He didn’t need any other accusations thrown his way, whether he won or lost. He wasn’t a wrestler, and her size gave her quite the advantage. That did not mean he was without a plan though. He knew what he had to do, the problem would just be execution. With her upper armor stripped away, she brushed down her dress, and stepped onto the mat. She leaned down, nearly kneeling, and then brought herself back up while stretching her neck and arms. She swept her hands forward, took up a stance with one foot slightly forward with both knees bent. “First to three sound fine?” She said. Xander noticed she didn’t set conditions for her victory. He could guess what she wanted, less of him. “Accepted,” He said. As the words came out of his mouth, Yalle reached forward and struck him across the face with the flat of her hand. Xander staggered back, but kept his arms in place. She waggled her eyebrows at him, and then reached out again. Xander waited until the last moment to move, trying to bring his hands up and grab at her approaching grip. His hand slipped, and he couldn’t find a proper hold. She found hers just fine. She gripped him under the arm, brought her feet forward, and turned on the spot. He found himself sailing up, and then back toward the mat. His back landed with a hard slap, and his lungs spilled out as he bounced. Yalle moved fast. It was surprising for someone as tall as her. She stood, put a bare foot down on his chest, and pressed down. “I hope it is everything you expected,” Yalle snapped, “We can make this one, if you wish.” Even back home, Xander hated being underestimated. Whether it was with family, during training, or among the Zindu themselves, he never lacked for people looking down on him. For a moment, he lost sight of the rules, and let himself be a man trapped in a fight. His elbow struck the back of her leg just below the knee, and Yalle was thrown off balance. He wrapped his hands around her feet, locked the ankle, and twisted until he felt her whole leg tense up in fear of something snapping. The whole woman fell forward, keeping herself up with her other leg until Xander made his way to his knees and twisted more, forcing her to collapse to her belly. “Damn you!” Yalle shouted, “Let go, or I’ll knock you upside your head again.” “That doesn’t sound like an incentive,” Xander said. He was catching his breath again. He adjusted his hands to reestablish the lock. He swept over her feet. They were surprisingly soft, the pads feeling like they never saw a rough surface in her life. As he moved over the surface, Yalle choked on air, and then yelped as he strained her again. “You can give,” Xander said, “One of three.” She tried to lurch forward, as if to drag him off balance. She pushed off with her knee, pulled the leg he was holding up. Xander stamped his foot down on the hem of her dress, and the motion ended with her planting face first on the mat. “I do know how to break it,” Xander said. Yalle growled at him, and then she waved her arm, “One.” He let go, and she rolled over and held the leg. The glare she gave him would have ended in death for many others. Instead, Xander backed up, and put his hands behind his back again. It was important that he didn’t let her get a free shot again. She wouldn’t make the same mistake. Her pride was on the line, after all. She stood, got back into her pose, and nodded at him. Xander nodded in reply, and she dashed forward. Xander stepped aside, barely getting out of the way before she extended for her attack. Her arms were so long, she was still able to lash out and knock him aside, throwing him off balance and stopping all counter attack. “It is like fighting a child,” She said with a sigh. She cleared hair from in front of her face, and rose back to her full height. Xander stood tall, “You have a lot of practice with that?” Yalle sneered, and moved forward again. This time she stopped short, readjusted her feet with a speed that surprised him, and struck him with a knee aimed for his face. He managed to take it to the shoulder. His only thought in defense of Yalle’s unsportsmanlike attack was that on someone her size, it would have been a blow to the chest or stomach. He rolled, but she was on top of him before he could escape. She tried to pin him down to the mat, sweeping over his body until they were parallel. Her motions were somewhat sloppy. Her own words echoed in Xander’s head. She didn’t know where to grab. Xander slipped her grip, and rolled out from under her. When he got to his feet, she came at him with a low stance. He had one shot at a proper attack. It had to be something she wouldn’t expect, something no Galan could accomplish. Xander leaned into her, leaping as she got close, his shoulder rolling over hers. He found himself on her back and weighing her down, bringing her down to the mat. He wrapped himself around her body from the side, one arm squeezed around her neck, the other coming up under her chest to keep his arm locked tight. She realized her position immediately. She tried to wrench his arm free, but only one of her arms was loose, the other was pinned to her body by him. She couldn’t get leverage, and soon she wouldn’t be able to breath. “You filthy little,” She let the words hang, and tried to roll over. She could put weight on Xander just fine, and soon he realized that he was making the same mistake as her. She was so large that she was able to get to her knees with him there on top of her. If she could stand up, she could devastate him as if he wasn’t even there. Xander adjusted his leg, and then did his best to knee her in the stomach. He heard the air flush from her body, and Yalle fell to the mat. She still struggled to move, still tried to pry him off of her. In truth, Xander wasn’t sure she couldn’t. Then the door to the bath area opened, and out walked a giant Galan wiping a towel in her flowing brown hair. She looked up, and her eyes popped as if a divine play was taking place before her eyes. Yalle squealed in Xander’s grip. Whoever this was, Yalle didn’t want to be seen like this. Xander tightened his grip. “That is a point,” Boomed the woman, “and quite a hold. Release her, at once.” Xander let loose, and Yalle gasped for air before rolling out and trying to stand immediately. The woman ran forward, catching Yalle as she collapsed forward. “Foolish,” She said. Yalle took a breath, “Sorry, your highness.” Those words. Xander stood, and tried to look like he wasn’t just beating up one of the members of the royal guard. “You have nothing to apologize for,” the princess said as she rose to her full height. She was in nothing more than skin-tight shorts and a loose top that barely contained her. From her size, there was only one conclusion. She was part Galan. “That was quite the hold, and your opponent hasn’t made this easy on you. Still, you put yourself at a disadvantage.” Yalle looked over her shoulder at Xander, and blushed, “Yes, but your highness.” “There is no excuse,” The woman added, “Go make yourself proper, and then show me your true skills. If you lose with anything less, you’ve shamed us all.” Yalle shrunk from the room, heading back into the washroom. The princess rose again, and walked toward Xander. He could feel the Hytian blood bearing down on him. It was hard not to fall to one knee. “Your highness,” Xander said with a bow, “I can explain.” “No need,” She said, “If one of mine were locked in combat with you, the stakes don’t matter, the art does. I am Galana.” Sister of the Galan. Some folklore called her the mother of the Galan, or the first. Xander never put together that she would be a princess. She was never talked about as a living person, never painted as anything but a legend. “I am Xander,” He said with his eyes averted, “Of the Zindu, of the Xin.” “I’ve heard whispers,” She said, “Your people are strange. I dreamed of one day bringing one to my mat, but you hide your warriors. Is this what you call yourselves, Zindu?” “He is a manservant,” Yalle said from behind the door. Xander looked, and saw that she was peeking from behind the door, trying to stay concealed. “A servant!” Galana shouted, “A move like that is not the move of a servant.” “You said it yourself, your highness,” Xander said, “My people are strange.” Galana locked onto Xander, scanning him up and down, then she looked back to the door. “Come, bring yourself out here.” “Must I?” Yalle asked. Galana motioned, and Yalle moved from behind the door. Instead of her dress, she was clad in only a pair of tight underpants, and a brassiere whose straps barely served her in keeping her chest bound. In fact, Xander noticed her nearly spilling from the top, the straps strained for their work. “Are you still a girl?” Galana chastised her, snorting at Yalle’s outfit, “Or are you afraid of facing a little manservant.” Yalle pointed to Xander, “He is still in full dress.” “He is not one of mine,” Galana said, though he didn’t like the look she was giving him. “Still, our rules should be upheld, to some degree, manservant.” Xander was too slow. Galana moved forward and gripped him by the collar. With a downward motion, the buttons from his coat popped off, and then his jacket was yanked from his back. His shirt came next, and by this point Xander could bring his hands up to his defense. He tried to hold to the shirt as his skin was exposed to the sparring room air, and Galana used the opportunity to yank his trousers down to his ankles. “Your highness!” Xander shouted in a panic. She grabbed him by his leg, pulled him up, and stripped him of his last slip of dignity. When he fell back to the mat, he was completely nude. Xander stood and covered himself. “Now look at him, barely a servant, but definitely a man,” Galana said with a laugh, “Can you do me proud and defeat him now?” Yalle kept her eyes averted, but she gave Galana a determined nod. “What is your score?” She asked. “Zero to Two, his lead. “To what?” “Three.” “Then you have a deficit,” Galana pondered as she moved off of the mat, “I can’t wait to see how you solve that.” “Yes, your highness,” Yalle said with a bow to the princess. Then she took her ready pose again. Xander, meanwhile, was making sure he could account for all of his buttons. He would have to sew those back on. On top of that, he was in the terrible position of needing to expose himself to a client, while also beating up one of her sworn guardians. If it wasn’t for the look of excitement on Galana’s eyes, Xander might have fled the scene as a better option. “Defend yourself,” Yalle said. There was red in her cheeks, but Xander could also see anger in her eyes. Xander tried to stand tall, but kept a hand to his private places. Yalle charged forward. Xander could barely move his feet before she was behind him. Her speed was unimaginable. He found his arms pinned above his head, and then held there as Yalle readjusted. He tried to formulate an escape, and then noticed Galana across the room, a smile on her face, and her eyes wandering to places he didn’t expect them. “Nice form,” Galana cheered. Yalle pulled Xander up and over, until her back arched and Xander slammed head and shoulders to the mat. His vision dimmed for a moment as he landed, and his legs hung above his head. There was no escape. “Is that confirmed?” Galana said with a deep authority. Xander struggled, but couldn’t get anywhere. “Confirmed,” Galana shouted, One to Two. Yalle let him go, and Xander rolled free and held his head. If that was the sort of attacks he could expect from now on, then he was in trouble. Was a dress all that was holding her back? No, it was more than that. She all but pranced as she went back to the middle of the mat and stood in her ready pose. She was showing off. Xander needed a new plan of attack. Her eyes almost wandered down, and then she swallowed, and her eyes focused on his. He had a plan. Xander took his stance, this time steeling himself enough to put both hands away from his body. He needed his full range of motion, and he needed Yalle to have a full view of him. They nodded. She came forward, and Xander was able to move low. He ducked under her blow, and came up, latching onto her upper body and swinging around to go for a similar full body grip as before. Yalle let out a gasp that almost sounded like fear, and grabbed his arm. She pulled until Xander found himself being pulled away from her like a troublesome child. He held on tight, pulling closer until he was wrapped around her side. The skin to skin contact was distracting, especially since she was so warm. Yalle spun around in place, then stopped and tried to push him away by getting a hand against his chest and forcing him out. He squeezed tighter, his arm pushing against her chest, her breasts welling up behind the small cloth barrier keeping them in place. As she pushed him further, he held to her bra with his hand, trying in futility to cup the large mammaries before him. She redoubled her efforts, and soon Xander was being pulled away, but not without a souvenier. Her bra came free, gripped tight in his hands. Yalle realized this, gasped, and dropped him as she tried to cover herself. “Give up your shame,” Galana said as Yalle growled at Xander, “You should have before this began!” Xander tossed the bra aside, and Yalle reluctantly let her hands fall. Her chest was large even for her size. Her musculature almost hid that fact, but it was hard to ignore when they were right before him like that. She charged forward, and Xander tried to step aside. His hope was to gain another prize, weaken her resolve even further, but Yalle was a quicker thinker than he expected. Her arm lashed out, knocking him aside as she passed. He fell to the ground, and she sat on his chest with her full weight, which was considerable. Facing his legs, she pulled them up and locked them so he couldn’t escape. “Is that confirmed?” Galana asked. Xander clawed at the back of Yalle’s underwear, pulling at them and trying to gain some traction to get free. But it was pointless. “It is confirmed, two to two!” Yalle tossed his legs aside before standing up. “You’re a circus act,” She said as she examined the damage he did to her clothing, “everything that I feared. You’re no match for a Galan.” Xander stood up, catching his breath. In his state, it was hard not to agree. She was beating him, and all he could do is try to distract her. “Hold your tongue until you’ve won,” Galana said with a smile, “You know better.” Yalle frowned, and then turned away from them both as she slid the stretched underwear off and kicked them aside. When she turned back, Xander couldn’t help but focus on the small band of hair between her legs, cropped and shaped. “This is the last point,” Galana said, “Maybe I was wrong about you, Xander. Of course, I would never go soft on one of my own. To defeat a Galan, you must bring your full arsenal. You seem to have been stripped of your weapons when you were stripped of your slave robes.” Xander tried to let the words wash over him, but they echoed in his head. She was right, he was failing himself, and failing the Zindu. He knew how to fight larger targets, he was trained for every eventuality. If he did not succeed now, if he failed to do whatever it took, he would not be able to serve her, and the other princesses. They took their stances, and nodded to one another. She moved forward first, and Xander leaped back. She had to extend further, bringing a hand forward to use her superior strength to knock him over. He grabbed Yalle’s arm, tried to bring it around her back to lock it there. He was too small for proper leverage, but it at least stopped her temporarily. She was stuck trying to find a way out of it without harming herself. “You heard her,” Yalle said, “You’re a disappointment.” Xander thought back to the start of the battle. His arm reached up and tickled Yalle’s armpit. At first she just squirmed, but then he heard a giggle erupt. Her foot readjusted, and he struck at her leg with his knee, bringing her down to both knees. The tickling assault continued, Yalle’s face going red, her arm flinching with every move of his fingers over her bare skin, until she barked in anger and dropped her shoulder low. He wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t see it, but with barely any space, she flipped over her own arm, reversed his lock, and then pulled him over her head and slammed him to the mat. “Amusing try,” Galana said, “But ouch.” Xander rolled and got back up, finding Yalle already fit to fight. “You should know a simple joint lock is pointless,” Yalle said with a smirk, “If there is no fear that you would use it.” When his face screwed up in confusion, she moved up. This time her attack was simple, so straightforward that it caught him off guard. It was a double armed hug, she picked him up and squeezed him against her body. “Now you can see a Galan’s strength,” Galana said behind him. He could feel it too, his arms were locked to his sides, his body smeared against hers. He could feel her heavy breath against his skin, the contours of her breasts pushed against his chest. Not only was he helpless, all this contact, skin to skin in the heat of battle, it put him at risk of shaming all of the Xin. “Just give in,” Yalle said, “You can’t get away from me.” She was smiling, she almost looked excited. Though the pain was enormous, fear was what bubbled to the surface. He could feel a heat in his gut, could tell that he was going to prove the fears of the women in the castle right. “Is that confirmed?” Galana asked. “No,” Xander shouted, “Wait!” “You have nothing,” Yalle cheered. Xander looked Yalle in the eyes, and then avoided them just as fast. He could feel the heat on his cheeks. He knew Yalle could feel it, his excitement pressing against her stomach, fighting to rise to its full height, hot with his blood. The color drained from her face, and she let out a girlish scream as she released her hold and dropped him to the ground. He rolled away, but couldn’t move too quickly with the pain in his back. “That is unfair,” Yalle shouted, “unacceptable!” “This is a fight,” Galana added, “Finish it, girl.” Yalle wiped at her stomach as if something of him was left there. He could see that her protesting was part act. Her nipples were erect, and her cheeks were flushed red. He tried to stand tall, but his erection wasn’t going anywhere. “A rousing tactic,” Galana said with a laugh. Yalle growled, and then stepped forward. She stopped early, her foot slapping the mat. Was she trying to figure out how to approach? Her least move could work fine, if she was willing to be in contact with him long enough. She came forward again, and Xander made his choice. He leaped forward, ignoring the pain shooting through his back. Yalle gasped as his legs wrapped around her head. The maneuver was idiotic to use on someone her size, except when they were so off balance. He twisted around her, using his weight with his knees locked around her head to flip her forward. She landed on her back with a crash and a look of disgust for where her face was stuffed. Yalle shoved him before he could pin her down, and he rolled toward her legs. The idea came before he could think it through. He grabbed her legs, wrapped them one over the other, and put them in a lock with one of her legs held close to his body. She gasped in pain at the first wave, but then she pushed against his hold, and he realized just how bad the strength difference was between them. Between that and the size, he had nothing. He held for all he was worth, her warm legs held close against his chest. He felt his foot brush something, and his lower brain realized what first. His toes slid against her womanhood as he tried to keep his grip. It was soft, hot, but most of all his foot had a slight touch of moisture to it. Yalle was, excited? “Is it confirmed?” Galana asked. Yalle growled and pulled up the leg he was holding, before slamming it down hard enough that Xander was nearly knocked away. “It seems not,” She said, almost giddy. All his weapons. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to complete his mission. That meant even the unthinkable. Xander slid himself up Yalle’s leg, putting himself closer to her. The lock was nearly lost, but his new position gave him a new angle of assault. Yalle tried to sit up and grab him. Xander reached out with his hand, and slid his finger across her lower lips. Her eyes opened wide, and her whole body flexed. He could feel her knees try to come together, but he kept one leg pinned down with his own. She reached down to knock his hand away, but Xander played keep away with one hand. The other confirmed the wetness from before. As he ran over her folds, up and then down, she came away wet. “You fool,” She said as she sat up and reached to slap him. He slid two fingers inside, and she froze in place. With the moment of pause he repositioned himself, moving the leg lock to stop her from properly sitting on her butt. She fell back and for a moment her hands squeezed the mat. The warmth inside, the wavy texture within, her slickness, it wiped away any hesitation. He pushed his fingers in deeper, his thumb playing with her little button outside. “Damn you,” Yalle whispered. She struggled again, nearly throwing him off. He had to get to his knees, push one of her knees until it slid against her chest, and gave him an ample view of his fingers probing her exposed pink interior. He moved faster, and realized that though she struggled, reaching to pull him away, her motions were lethargic and weak. His own erection was solid, and he was so close to her, so close to turning this into a whole new angle of attack, that he was having trouble thinking. Yalle’s breath was coming in stifled huffs, she was covered in a sheen of sweat, and her thighs squeezed each time his fingers returned to touch some new place deep within her. “Three,” Yalle whispered. “What was that?” Xander asked, his mind dragged back to reality. “That’s three.” “Then it is confirmed!” Galana shouted. Xander’s fingers stopped deep within her. He remembered where he was, nude and sexually pleasing a high guard in front of a princess. For the moment, he kept hands where they were, and looked to Yalle. She was red all over, and her eyes pleaded with him. It wasn’t to stop, it was to finish, to take her that one step further. Her breasts heaved, her nostrils flared, her hands rested low on her stomach. Then Galana grabbed him by his lust-slicked hand and pulled him up into the air. “We have a winner!” Yalle rolled up, tried to stand, and looked wobbly on her feet. “Impressive, for a manservant,” Galana said. Her expression, her eyes half-lidded and looking him up and down, did nothing to relieve the situation between his legs. “Though I would be a fool to keep calling you little.” “You highness?” Yalle whispered with a lost voice. “Go clean up,” Galana said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “No shame today. You fought well, against a worthy opponent.” Yalle nodded, and then dashed to the door to the showers. “As for you,” Galana said, her voice lowering, “That was a dirty trick you pulled. I can’t say I’ve seen that style of fighting in here before, or that my mother would approve.” Xander coughed, and tried to avoid her eyes. She was having none of it, and moved his whole body to keep her in his sight. He felt like he was in danger of exploding all over her, just from talking alone. “I’m sorry,” Xander whispered, “It will never happen again.” Galana chuckled, “Nonsense. Next time, just promise me I get to be your opponent.” Xander’s back went straight, he could feel the princess squeezing his behind. She dropped him to the ground, and let out a heavy laugh. “I don’t know if that is the best idea,” Xander said, trying to regain some of his composure. Galana smiled, “I bet if I call, you’ll come running. Just be prepared to slam me to the mat, or be slammed. The excitement will be in finding out, huh?” He at least won today, but he had the feeling he was doomed.