Hoshor Plains without a doubt

Tomahawk sat, then forced her muscles to extend, hoping to give off some semblance of looking relaxed. Her facial features were still tense, as she did not trust that this was not a game. A test of her will, so to speak. The last time she had been tested, Tomahawk had lost. She did not wish to add another strike to her record with the Khal. Just as he passed through her thoughts, her ears pivoted to hear his voice, and she nodded. The children made her weary, but she would press on once the female released her to do so.

The other girl had asked if it hurt, and Tomahawk shook her head. "It did not," she replied. Perhaps it might have, if the slave girl had resisted, but she had given into her instincts easily. It was the coyote who had not been pleasant, and even that had been easily blocked out by imagining that it was the Khal with her and not some vile piece of filth.