Keeping her back to the orcs, she raised her upper body from the water to reach up and untie her loose braid, and ran her fingers through her cinnamon-brown hair in an effort to work out the tangles that had collected during her trek through the forest. All the while, she tried to ignore the orc man’s crude talk (or what sounded crude to her ears, anyway), though to hear him speak so freely of such...such obscene matters was jarring. His suggestion that good sex ought to be rough only turned her cheeks an even deeper shade of pink. He didn’t deny her claim, she noticed, though if anything he seemed doubtful that a human woman could properly handle an orc’s “affection”. However, where everything he had said up to this point only seemed to fluster her, the insinuation that her species was somehow “weak” served to truly rile her for the first time. True, she was nowhere near as powerful as these orcs, but there was a deceptive strength to her wiry form. A Hunter’s life demanded a high degree of physical fitness and stamina, after all. Likewise, her mentor, while aging, had been no less formidable for it--something she had learned through years of sparring with him. If anything, the wisdom and cunning that came with years could be even more dangerous than brute strength.<br/><br/>She had half a mind to tell him just that, actually. With a huff, Liirah turned around, the movement sending ripples across the surface of the pool, only for annoyance to immediately translate to wide-eyed shock as he casually dropped his trousers, giving her her first glance at orcish manhood. Any witty retort she might have had was reduced to a quiet squeak. At a glance, he was obviously larger than the average human male even when flaccid, both in terms of length and girth. Wider around the middle and tapering to a round, swollen head, with a vein tracing its lazy way down the shaft, a monster in its own right.<br/><br/>Somehow, her face was able to attain yet another degree of red.<br/><br/>It was only at his taunt that she snapped out of her daze, and looked away with a snort of contempt as she kicked away a few feet, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the vulgar sight. “As if I’d ever bed an orc,” she snapped, forcing the shocked quaver out of her voice. “Nothing but primitive-minded, violent brutes. You’re monsters.” There was a sharper, more derisive edge to her tone now, though to an apt ear, it might have been more apparent that it was far more defensive than aggressive. Yes, she was fairly confident that they would honor her surrender and not try to start a fight now that she was disarmed. But she was still alone and out of her element, among beings that she had been conditioned to regard as dangerous foes. Mix in the weeks upon weeks of worrying over the one person she had ever truly cared about, and it was no wonder that her temper was frayed enough for her to start saying such things.<br/><br/>“Besides,” she said with a quiet huff as she moved towards the edge of the pool, wringing the water from her hair, “I’ve got far more important things to think about than..than that.” Things like finding Ignatius and getting out of here, for one. It was at that moment that the younger scout returned carrying a buckskin dress. Upon seeing the two in the water together, with neither wearing clothes, he appeared understandably suspicious. Of the exchange in Orcish she caught little, beyond “she” and “body”. At that, she fixed him with a suspicious look of her own, arms wrapping self-consciously about her bare chest as she floated in the water.