<div style="text-align: center"><img alt="[​IMG]" class="bbCodeImage LbImage" data-url="http://i.imgur.com/OBYSo.gif" src="http://i.imgur.com/OBYSo.gif" style=""/><br/>
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<span style="font-family: 'georgia'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: #9D612B">DON'T CARE WHAT PEOPLE SAY<br/>
JUST FOLLOW YOUR OWN WAY</span></span></span>​</div><br/><span style="font-size: 9px"><span style="color: #544A41"><span style="font-family: 'georgia'"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="color: #9D612B">With a grimace,</span></span></span> Sbatarra watched as the chieftain hacked away into the dragon turtle's insides, and then eventually returned with a still beating heart in his bloody, scaled hands.  Although not squeamish in the slightest, the drow still looked at the heart cautiously, before accepting her slab of the meat.  She had a decent understanding of warrior tribes, and how such rituals were considered to be very important.  Refusing the heart would have meant dishonoring herself, the chieftain, and likely putting herself in poor favor with the entire tribe.  As someone who was trying to make as many reliable contacts as she possibly could, she couldn't afford any more bad reputation than she already had for being a drow.<br/>
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Raising the heart high into the air, she dipped her head back, gave it a slight squeeze to let the blood drip onto her face and lips, then brought the heart down and took a large bite out of it, preforming as she should have.  To be honest, the heart didn't taste <i>awful</i>, and as a woman who has gone without any food in her system for over three weeks, any meal was considered a delicious treat, especially meat, which she always had a strong taste for anyway.</span></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 22px"><a class="externalLink" href="http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=454315" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">*</a></span></span>​</div><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>