The man paused briefly, the rage tainted outburst likely read as a barbarian flying into a rage. 'No,' he shook his head, the slight motion transferring to the arms supporting Viloet. 'If she were, she'd have freed herself by now.' "Certainly not verbally. Physically however," he adjusted again, lifting Violet's upper body. Her captor lowered his head to her chest, "the message is certainly clear."<br/><br/>His thick tongue lashed out and flicked at the nipple left unattended. Swirling about the base through her shirt, he then mashed his face into the mound and pinched the nipple softly with his teeth. Using the fabric as a type of guard, his jaw rocked back and forth with the same effect of a pair of fingers.<br/><br/>Speaking of which, the hand that had stoked her nethers abandoned their duty in lieu of the halfling's other nipple proudly straining against the fabric. Accurately, it mimicked the motions his teeth were making. Still, he would not leave the clot unattended. After testing, the thumb on his other hand would suffice for the task, though again through the clothing that protected it.