The young elf struggle vigorously to get off the orcs' strong grip.
1st Grunt Whispers : "Stop whining or I snap your neck !"
1s Grunt whispers to his friend : "So how does it taste ?"
2nd Grunt hold is licking to answer : "Fresh ! Tender ! Smooth flesh . . . the skin smells fresh grass, and forest fruit.
2nd Grunt licks eagerly the young elf soles.
1st Grunt whispers : "ok her feet are tonite's diner but I don't want to share her with our brothers . . . let s wait untill they leave . . . we ll get back to the horde tomorow"
2nd Grunt nods.