Still, seeing my warriors like that was always emotionally and physically exhausting. But there were still several dozen more buildings to inspect. The first four structures contained injured Arkadians being treated diligently by my own warriors. These were the enemy warriors my warchiefs had identified as thrallsvar and villein. I hadn’t had a chance to talk over each case with my warchiefs, so I wasn’t familiar with most of them just yet. Still, there were a few I recognized from the heat of battle. I recognized a young trainee with fiery shoulder-length hair who’d stood her ground as her comrades fled around her. She lay on her good side, bandages stained red from her bleeding flank, blood leaking from between lips clenched tight against the pain. Gjord’s killer was there as well. He had been caught fatally off-guard by the nimble teenager’s reckless moves. My guess was that she had been trapped in the salient as the rest of the Arkadian army had fled. Now she lay twitching in the dirt, her arm hugging the gash below her ribs. The cut was serious; the blade had sliced through the skin, muscle, and organs of her midriff. Black blood flowed steady from the open wound. If she survived long enough for Sigrid to get to her the wound might have been survivable. But that possibility was looking slimmer and slimmer by the minute. The dying teen’s wound was generally representative of the severity of the injuries that I saw amongst the future thrallsvar and villein. These warriors had fought lick better, harder, and longer than any of their comrades. An encounter with any of them was guaranteed to end in bloodshed—their enemy’s or their own. Of course, the downside of that was that relatively few such warriors survived japanese to be named. But the ones that were too tough to let little things like potentially-mortal injuries get in their way would certainly be deserving of their new titles. Such grievous injuries also meant that bodily fluids from bleeding bodies and voided bowels proliferated alongside the growing number of corpses. The straw on the floor was filthy; covered in shit, barf, bits of flesh, and every other bodily fluid known to man. The dirt underneath had grown muddy with the piss and blood of a dozen victims. Dead bodies were left amongst the wounded. The last straw was the warm sausage of shit that squelched beneath my boot as I tried to navigate around one of the healers. “Get some of the slaves to clean this place up,” I shouted at a young Clan warrior. He saluted and hurried to fetch a work party. A half-dozen captive Arkadian warriors shuffled in a few minutes later as I departed. I took a break, such as it was, by checking in on the houses that held the injured Zavalan villagers captured what seemed like an eternity ago. Most of them were resting fitfully. After two weeks, few of their lives were in doubt; the ones that would die off had already passed, while the survivors were already over the hill on the path to recovery. A few looked up as I entered but quickly averted their eyes when they recognized me. After that, it was back into the fire. Thirty buildings were filled with Arkadian wounded and that number was growing by the minute. The evening passed by in a haze of blood Lesbian and shattered bodies. Here, a sniveling Wildcat asian tried feebly to plug the stab wound in the right side of her belly. There were plenty of guys who were eyeing the ample body of Manya and some of them came right behind her and rubbed their dicks hard and swift against her ass. It vanished and appeared on the side of the helicopter slashing away at the engines. Today is more of what I dread. Something like this involves lick asian the police and time in the juvenile home. Did my wife tell you I am bisexual?” Adam is groaning a few minutes later as he pokes his huge tongue out. My finger writhed within him encouragingly, and he growled, slid his hands under my ass, spread me, and pushed two fingers from each into my filth. I asked three different girls for a date, got shot down three times. The drivers were ready by noon on Thursday. She felt the hard lump of his erection through the material of his boxers and she tried to pull away. My hands alternately wandered over her shapely stocking clad thighs and luscious breasts. "Doing it at the japanese same time is unnecessarily cruel." I'm going to work them up and down. "Hey Harold! She knew she would have to do something. I need Lesbian the car! I buried my cock into her as I looked to my right, searching for my naughty angel. I beg.