With the hounds indeed. If Owen had been able to see his beloved at that moment, he might have been sick, or attempted to fight the Baronet in spite of knowing himself overmatched.<br/><br/>In the middle of the room she knelt, her small hand wrapping around the ruddy shaft that slid forth at her coaxing, and tears trickled forth to stream freely down her cheeks as the cruel encouragements and catcalls swirled around her. Some of these men were Owen's own compatriots, had seen to it that they were able to steal time together away from his duties, away from her farm; now, as if Ravenroost itself had infected them with the Percivan tendencies, they exhorted her to unthinkable things.<br/><br/><em>See to them all,</em>Brom had commanded, and her hand squeezed, trembling but beginning to stroke while she lifted her head enough to look around her at the heavily muscled animals weaving around her, trying and failing to see just how many there were. She saw teeth, though, and claws, tongues hanging out of powerful jaws as cool noses nudged close against her skin, surprising little pained cries here and there when they bumped where she had been beaten.<br/><br/>Her other hand reached out, trailing along the side of a second nearby beast as she sat back on her heels. Then it dipped in, grazing the animal's belly to find the telltale protrusion of it's hidden shaft, tickling to try to tease it forth.