Hmm. He thought for a moment, climbing onto the bed across from her. Like some sort of evil mastermind, Rabastan took a moment to stroke his goatee. "The loser has to do whatever the winner says for the next 24 hours. Anything they say."
He spent a moment to let the words sink in, flexing a little so that he could hopefully limber up a bit. He was by no means a bulky man -- muscular, yes, but more in the way a soccer player would be instead of a wrestler. His eyes followed her frame for a moment, trying to decide just how flexible she could be.
"You shouldn't have an issue with those stakes, seeing you never lose." With that being said, he spun the arrow. "Right hand, red."