Anoria moaned quietly when he nudged her. The fire had burnt or charred and singed most of their clothing and armor, so large swathes of Anoria's body was exposed. Kynrind was less exposed. The chain having held together better than cloth.<br/><br/>Anoria groaned as Silven lifted her onto the dead saber. The effort she'd given to save her and her sister was etched on her face, the look of complete exhaustion. She hung across the back of the beast, and the breasts Silven had fondled were nearly exposed. Ash smeared into the soft pale skin.<br/><br/>Kynrind was much heavier than Anoria, being more muscular and armored, she was still bundled on the beast, arms and legs tied around it's neck. After awhile she awaoke, groaning from the pain and newer pain of her uncomfortable position.<br/><br/>"What the fel?" she asked, grunting as pain sent sharp stabs into her joints and limbs. Silver eyes widened as she smelled the stench of the dead cat. "Fuck!" She cried and pulled with all of her strangth at it's neck. She had a very good idea of who they were with and was trying to hurt or if she pulled hard enough, break the beast's neck.