Ter'ra would grunt in appreciation to Lang around her second meal as she consumes a second human-sized meal, the taste of salt and spinach on her tongue as she goes about ingesting it. Her throat would convulse slowly, her mouth taking in the entirety of the demon while the first churns rhythmically in her midsection, which is doing a tremendous job of condensing her meal into a tight beach ball sized bulge in her torso, a bulge that would swell as her second victim joins the first.<br/><br/>As the last of the second would disappear down her sensually powerful throat, she would take shallow breaths as her lungs compete with her stewing gut, which is sloshing the plants into a soup of nutrients as quickly as her taxed digestive system would allow. Despite how full she was, the sorceress still felt empty, the magic used in her shield demanding much of her. She would groan an almost animalistic  noise as she moves towards another downed demon, her belly urging the drow matriarch to consume the magically infused creatures. Had she been in control of herself she may well have done so anyways despite the protests coming from her stomach, the Drow believing the daemons were full of delicious fertility magic.<br/><br/>As she consumes the last of the four, the Drow's hunger finally abates, her belly gurgling loudly in protest of her gluttony, squelching as it presses and churns the remains of the daemons into nutrients, perhaps she would finally take on more of a filled out build. She had lived decadently underground without gaining much weight, and her kind were the types to enjoy humanoid meals many a time, sometimes she would partake and consume far beyond what her lithe form would give away. Hopefully she wouldn't need to justify her hunger; the drow was not proud of her people's traditions, but she would be a liar if she didn't enjoy feasts of slaves and bounties gathered. She would give a soft whine as she rubs what she can reach of her knee-bumping stomach, the organ taut and hard around the 4 humanoids.