[Nelia whistles-and suddenly, there is 1200 pounds of warhorse standing on top of Megaera, nickering softly. For purposes of comedy, and to avoid broken ribs, there is mud to grip the succubus's face.]
Good girl, Gwaihir. Let us fall back for now, and let her stew in her impotence.
no subject
[Nelia whistles-and suddenly, there is 1200 pounds of warhorse standing on top of Megaera, nickering softly. For purposes of comedy, and to avoid broken ribs, there is mud to grip the succubus's face.]
Good girl, Gwaihir. Let us fall back for now, and let her stew in her impotence.