"Run on..." She blinked, stared and shook her head. Run on what now? Too late she realized her reaction had thoroughly made the situation rather unsalveageable. She shook her head slowly again and studied Gino while he made a fairly impressive tower out of bits of breakfast.

What did he want, anyway? They had talked a little before the fight, of course, but there seemed to be no connection between that and this random conversation...

"I don't recognize that fuel," Grenn said with a shrug. Because it was obvious it was some sort of fuel. Randomly, her brain settled on that fight with Gino, and the... contortions he'd gone through to... Not immediately win the round back then. Why?

"Gino... Why did you..." Should she even bother? She hoped it wouldn't sound like an accusation. "You could have won the last round. Why not?" In her experience, you always should try to finish as soon as possible when it came to blood sports. And in Grenn's mind, this... Exaclan was a blood sport.

Maybe not as literally bloody or deadly as the frisbee race back home, but that didn't really matter.