Amara gulped, and looked at Safwan. He was standing alone in the corner. He seemed like he was in his late-20s. His hair color was blonde, and his eyes seemed greener than grass. He was tall and stood at 6'1, and wore a brown trouser and a jacket. The jacket was unbuttoned and had no sleeves. His front body was flashing from that jacket, he was pretty buff as everyone in Quwahar is.
He looked back at Amara, she frowned and looked away. "Are you ready?" Zayan asked her, she took out her board and wrote something.
"Worry about him, not me." Zayan looked at the board and laughed, "Yes, I know you are nervous." Zayan scuffed, Shayan looked at him and laughed out loud, and with a pat on his head, he said, "She knows you can't read, you moron. It says, 'Worry about him, not me.' She isn't nervous at all." Zayan smiled, "Well, you are fighting against me maybe you should be nervous, I am going to kick your ass." Zayan said to him, Shayan laughed. "In your dreams,"
