.. sniffing her... Sniffing in the scent of her still damp little pussy... Oh no, she thought. The b**st couldn't think too... That would tear her apa...t! Surely! She panicked a little, beginning to struggle, the only result being that she felt a massive paw being placed over the small of her back, on top of her elegant furs, pinning her in place, humiliatingly effortlessly...The tribe walked for nearly a day and a half straight, their path winding through the mountains and small pine forests. "You've got some fucking nerve." This man's already dying. You don't have to make it worse for him." The fucker owes me," the assailant said, as he held his victim up above the ground by his throat. "I've been looking for this cunt for years. The fucker's only getting what he always had coming." It's not right. Put him down. Let him die in peace." Don't fucking tell me what to do, you cunt," said Roland's unwelcome guest. He slammed his victim's face several times against the wall. A pitiful. You did ask them if they wanted any ice. I had to grab you and pull you into the room. That's when we fucked each other." I had leaned forward to tell the story and now leaned back in my chair to watch her reaction. You could almost see the wheels turning as she tried to remember what had happened the night before. "You're lying. I might have gone to get ice but I wasn't naked. In your dreams, maybe." She got up and headed for the door, tossing her trash as she went. She glared at the two. For surely there can have been few Kings his equal. Even Great Ælfred had faults that none could overlook. Athelstan is a man without peer. His appearance and demeanour are all regal and he has the love of all his people like none before him. Lest I be accused of courting favour, let it be known that I am a Briton of the West, not a Saxon. I have no great love for the people who stole our land these many years past. Nonetheless, I own Athelstan as my King.I recall the King as a boy at his.