I didn’t know whether or not my words made her feel any better, but I hoped that they would. Killing exacts a heavy psychological toll on the mind. No matter how many battles you fight, no matter how many people are slain by your hand, it is impossible to get used to killing. Every warrior eventually has a moment like Emmy’s, a moment where the gruesome reality of asian taking another human being’s life bursts through the dams that we all erect to block out that torment. For some, like Emmy, that moment comes after the first or second battle. For others, it comes after a lifetime of killing. There was no shame in crying over the crimes you’ve committed, no matter how justified those crimes were. Crying is a sign you’re still human. I could not trust any warrior that did not cry every once in a while. I spotted Sub-Commander Bernette as she helped carry a bleeding spearman to one of the two collection area on the beach. There, the wounded were sorted by severity. Those with minor wounds were helped up the beach into Zavala for healing. Those with survivable wounds were carried up first. The wounded whose survival was questionable were given whatever treatment was available as they waited to be brought up to the town. Those with fatal wounds were comforted and then left to suffer and die. Some of my soldiers filtered through the wounded, singling out the most courageous or skillful for nomination as thrallsvar or even villein. Since my own injured were already being cared for, I movie decided it was a good time to have a chat with the enemy leader. I stood over the struggling figure of japanese a young archer. On her back, she pawed weakly at the arrow to the right of her bellybutton, her hands stained red. Blood flowed in rivulets up and down her naked body, up her breastbone between her small breasts and down over her shaved pussy. I beckoned Bernette exotic over. She dropped off an injured spearman and picked her way over to me. “Help me with her,” I said, stooping down to take one of the girl’s arms. The girl whimpered in fear and pain, confused about what was going on. “What?” asked Sub-Commander Bernette, confused and more than a little suspicious. “I said, ‘Help me with her,’” I reiterated impatiently. She grabbed the girl’s other arm and together, we used a two-person drag to carry the whimpering towards the collection area. “Your lordship is wasting his valuable time helping a mere slave,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh please, spare me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I talked back to my master; that should be more than enough of an excuse japan for you to kill me,” she said, her sarcasm undiminished. Once I had my braces and everything, he took exotic me right home so I could get my pads and stuff before it got bad, we went and hung out at home for a while, then we went to moms work to take her lunch and to show her my new pink braces. "Okay." “No, daddy does it movie just about every day sir.” Kate japan said. If you’re sure you don’t mind?” Now I felt her tits, the nips with the same cold wet fingers. It feels really heavy. “LOLA!” “Twenty-one.” I didn’t want to go to the restaurant in case he was there, so ordered some room service and japanese a few drinks for the rest of the evening. He enjoyed watching her squirm on the bed, her high pitched panting moans as her body quivered. The dusky girl was bent in supplication to Shadow. I stood a few feet back, enjoying asian the spectacle, my penis at full attention.