Kintla Flatlands When Signs have no Arrows

Silver, against her will, closed her eyes tight when the first paw kneaded her prone figure, expecting terrible pain, but instead felt the opposite. She slowly relaxed, the pleasure leaving her no other choice. Her sounds of pain stopped, and she lay limp, mind whirling, trying to figure out what was being done to her. Suddenly, a claw was placed on the spot, and pressure applied.

Silverfeather withered and screamed, eyes wild. Her spine arched, lances of white hot pain coursing through her whole body. The tiniest bit more pressure had a whole different effect then the first time, and this time silver felt a drop of blood ooze from the tip of the claw. Her screams echoed through the dark wood, a group of ravens winging away with angry caws. Screams, that where all to familiar in the area.