(Sorry for the late reply once again. Christmas, nuff said.)<br/><br/>As the walls of the demoness' intestines squeezed him, Valiash lightly exclaimed in pain as the foul air was forced out of his lungs. Once the walls relaxed, the half elf sucked in all the air he could bare to take in. He was able to breathe, but the air of the foul tunnel of death was nothing like the fresh air of nature, emitted by the trees and plant life. But soon, he began to feel himself get pulled out. "Oh thank the gods, at last you have some mercy?" He asked. But he spoke to soon, as Clare began to push him back in just to pleasure herself. "Of course not! You never do! I hope they rip your limbs off and use them as flails to beat you to death with, you..." Valiash shouted. The rest of his words sounded like a jumble of words to Clare, as he was shouting, and possibly swearing, in elvish. He knew he was going to die, but he wanted to stab at his murderer as much as he could.