Illya looked up, a bit surprised that the woman had decided to talk to him. He stopped punching the bag and looked up at her, panting slightly from exertion.
"I am Illya," he said in his strong Russian accent. "Pleased to meet you." They stood for a moment while Illya tried to suss out what she wanted. He took a step back. "You want a turn?" he said, pointing to the punching bag. Perhaps he had been hogging it. That meant he'd have to find something else to punch.