When Sbatarra had taken her most recent victim, she would find that the others had already fled the scene, and disappeared into the night. The five that the other raging lizardmen had taken had been clawed and bitten to death and were mauled beyond recognition, their faces having been crushed between the lizardmen's jaws. The chieftain had visibly strained, it seemed, to fight off his bloodlust, something that may or may not have been taken as a good sing. In battle, it meant that he was a fierce, nigh unstoppable force, but it meant that he was hard to disengage from it as well. His enemies would to well to avoid him at all costs unless they could attack him in his sleep.<br/><br/>The fighting had finished, as even in his exhausted state, the chieftain's main concern was the well-being of his tribe members. He growled angrily when he saw that lizardwomen and children had been hurt, and one could have sworn that his heart had visibly thumped when he saw the child that had nearly died. He calmed himself by walking back and forth, his hand gripping his sword firmly enough to be dangerous; it seemed as though he would lash out at any moment. However, with a deep sigh, he was settled enough to be willing to speak. He approached Sbatarra with an expression as thankful as his facial structure would allow him to muster, and then said quietly, "Si, Faraji di wer Nyeusimaji clan, vinxa ihk dout letoclo. Yth re persvek dout nbelaern." Extending his hand, he added, "Origato udoka ukris zahae dout reward. Svabol ornla wux hefoc? Aurix? Bensvelki? Vi rumag? Si tepoha nymuera creol di dout cirau tepoha bvecko taste persvek rumagic."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>