[i]After Ylon had exited the courtyard of the Dojo, a separate figure entered the fray. Standing at five foot six, the girl's body was engulfed in a pair of pure white robes with thick pockets, with bright red accents decorating them in a rather unique fashion. A white fabric hood hung from the back of the robe, while a red bow held the robe together at the neckpiece of the outfit. Underneath this was a thin, dark red plaid dress, while her white dress ended at her knees. Clothing her legs were white leggings, while the shoes she wore were black combat boots, tightened onto her as if she was actually ready for a fight. Her face certainly said she was. The girl appeared to be about eighteen, with high, shallow cheekbones, an angular face, smooth olive skin and a small nose. Her golden eyes darted towards the young man within the courtyard, her short, boyish brown hair gleaming slightly in the sunlight that boomed down upon her. Sheathed onto her back was a five foot eleven inch long claymore sword, the hilt of the weapon being crafted out of gold, as the blade was gleaming steel. A short sword hung at her side, with the singular name "Marcia" engraved into it's blade. The girl, presumably Marcia, grinned slowly at the man within the arena that had just defeated what had seemed to be the better fighter.[/i] "Hope you're still up for a fight. Better be, I won't be holding back." [i]Her voice only said that she was nothing but a snobbish, self-centered person, and she couldn't have too many friends acting like that. In truth, it wasn't like she cared.[/i]