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Come the next WWA show...
A burst of flame erupts from the stage, and Bishamonta comes stomping down the ramp, climbing onto the ring, and raising her hand to the crowd's response. The other hand motioned for a microphone to be retrieved from her, which she snatched away once given.
>Duna Sands...
She paused, a faint grin on her mouth.
>I have heard you are cowering at your beach again. How often you would stare at the stars, instead of giving attention to the "weirdos" you so dislike.
>Tell me, Duna Sands. Are you truly willing to wait a whole month to face me again?
>Are you a coward?
A chortle left her, turning golden eyes towards the stage.
>I want you to face me, tonight. I want you to dig out the courage you found, when you first beat me, and show it.
>In fact... Consider this. If you defeat me, this time, Duna Sands, I will assist you in earning the World Heavyweight Championship.
>There are two people Priscilla Divine has not defeated, and it is you and I!
>Do not just bring this story to a close, open the next one with your spirit!
>Answer me, Duna Sands!
Her arms extended out, giving a few minutes to see if the Queen of the Beach would make an appearance. Whether she did or not, she would lower her limbs down, and say her final piece.
>I'll be waiting.
The microphone was dropped, and she left the ring, returning backstage to where she would bide her time.
