Sleeping Dragon bone tongue

Dio was promoted to the leadership tier — a man she was familiar with. Though their time spent together had been short she remembered him well enough. She held no qualms about Heda's judgment. If he did not deserve she would not have bestowed the honor upon him. Eske's interested returned, however, when Thuringwethil spoke of the Grounder tradition of marking for kills and her blood buzzed with unbidden and sudden excitement. The Grounder Princess was far from squeamish and she watched with fascination as Portia ghosted forward to mark Heda's flesh with rough stone. Her pupils widened in their pools of blue-green sea glass as she admired the newest mark to mar Heda's flesh. In a breathless moment she craned her neck to study her own shoulder, untouched as the day she was born. Utterly flawless. Too flawless. She wanted to bear the kill marks, too. She poked her tongue out in concentration as she tried to imagine how much of a badass she would look like if she, too, bore the kill tally. Fiercely, as Eske felt everything, she wanted tally marks just like Heda. Her tongue drew across her jowls as her gaze returned to Heda, eager.