<span style="font-weight: bold">Dura</span><br/><br/>“Who wants to go first, then?” Dura asks, smiling - smirking - as turns her palm up and casually beckons with a flick of her index and middle fingers… Her soldiers settle in the heat, perhaps resigning themselves to a wait without a hint of action. The youngest [ambusher-two] yawns ostentatiously, whilst another [ambusher four] shifts nervously, betraying her inexperience.<br/><br/>“It’d be faster two-at-a-time, Milady,” their apparent leader [ambusher three] suggests, chain dangling casually from her grip.<br/><br/>“I wouldn’t mind feeling one of them up,” her closest comrade offers. Voluptuous and sexy, with steel claws wrapped around her fists, she smirks and licks her lips, resting her weight on the perfect curve of her hip.