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Lysera was further impressed. “Thank you, Better.” Tryi responded shortly, forcing herself to be respectful, “This way.” Lysera walked in silence and with purpose alongside her Second, going through several mental exercises to collect and order her thoughts, forcing the ever-present ball of rage that fueled her strength to succumb to her training and not cloud her judgement any more than it already had. She knew it would only be to the detriment of her own honour if she was to throw further fire and vitriol at her own wounded warriors, especially when she had no proof that they had not fought to the best of their talents, as Tryi had suggested. With her thoughts ordered and the silence between them stretching as they walked, Lysera mentally dissected the confrontation with Tryi. She had in both anger and error insulted her and, despite Tryi being the younger and less experienced of the two Seconds under Lysera’s command, Tryi had conformed to honour and challenged her Better despite the obvious difference in their abilities. With the benefit of clear thoughts and retrospect Lysera understood that her mistake had put Tryi amateur in a perilous position among her own Lessers, who might see it as an opportunity to rise themselves, an error Lysera felt duty bound to correct or at least recompense, if possible. Lysera was led to a sheltered crevice naturally worn into the rocky earth of the red planet on which they stood. While one wasn’t raging now, the planet had shown its masturbation willingness to throw unpredictable and biting sandstorms at the invaders and Lysera had learned to respect that, camping in sheltered spots even when all seemed quiet and the weather clear. While the anger inside her writhed, demanding she turn her attention first to the two captured human women, each of them stripped of their armour, clothing and pride to be left naked and vulnerable, hanging against the rocky face of the cliff with bound wrists locked and outstretched above their heads as they stood captive and waiting. But she would have time enough for that soon. She stepped passed them, not so much as sparing them a glance for fear that the look of their small supple bodies, helpless and awaiting her, would interrupt her focus on the wounded. As she approached she took in the sight, carefully assessing what she saw. Two of her Lessers, Fourths she knew, sat with their backs to the wall, one looking bored with a bullet wound in her thigh, so far unchecked and oozing a steady stream of crimson blood, the other with a deep cut across one cheek, a stormy expression on her face even as it too let crimson spill down across her neck and torso. Lysera felt a pang of regret for that Lesser in particular, though she didn’t show it. A prominent scar given by a weak enemy would be a lesson she would have to carry with her for life, a constant reminder of her failing in both her own eyes and in those of her peers. It could make life tough among the Isiri. She also saw a human woman, laid out on her back, most of her armour cut away to reveal a nasty wound on her right arm. Even with her limited knowledge of the craft Lysera could see enough of the woman's blood to deduct a major, perhaps even life-threatening injury had been sustained. The human woman was conscious but pale and clearly exhausted, her fair hair dirty and lank with sweat. “White One,” Lysera spoke, inclining her head respectfully only to be met with a raised finger, a chastisement to be quiet as she worked. Lysera breathed in slow through her nose and out through her mouth, staring at the back of the White One's head, eyes focused on one of the women's long white braids, betraying her age. It annoyed her to essentially be told to shut up by one as weak as the White One, but everyone knew that the service the White Ones performed on both their own wounded and those of the foe were essential to the Isiri on a blowjob whole, so she waited patiently and practised her breathing while the wound was stitched and cleansed. At length and with no rush the White One rose and turned, one of her lower fangs broken and missing, her arms and face showing no shortage of the scars she had likely received during her youthful times in the Warrior-Caste. The White One paused for a moment, eying Tryi’s abdomen with some suspicion, though she remained silent, instead bowing her head respectfully towards Lysera as her once white robe, now stained with the human's blood and the red sands of this planet, flapped loosely in the breeze against asian Hardcore her slender and unmuscled form. “Thank you for waiting, Lysera,” She spoke, her voice calm and soft, though she traded a glance with Tryi, reading more about Lysera’s mood from the Second’s expression than she would off of her directly, “. ..I assume you came to speak to the wounded?” “Fucking… Isiri scum…” Lysera raised an eyebrow and looked down curiously towards the human who had spoken, her voice thready and weak, but her eyes bright, full of hatred and swimming in a lust to inflict violence on those who had wiped out her squad. After a moment's hesitation Lysera squatted down beside the human, letting an unpleasant smirk settle on her expression as she reached out, running a hand across the girls face, feeling her skin, soft, but cool and clammy with sweat, the human didn’t flinch or look away, merely glaring and gritting her teeth. “What do you think of her Tryi?” Lysera asked, maintaining her eye contact with the human, keeping her voice soft. “What do you mean?” “Oh, Jill that feels awesome. Marcus started removing my black shining gown which immediately fell on the floor. I was trapped in amongst then, standing at the end of the carriage. Hardcore amateur I tensed for a blowjob second, thinking she might be embarrassed. "Yes mistress, but what about the asian twins. masturbation