He drags you into a nearby tent, eyes dark with lust.

You feel the weight of the man pressing down onto you, forcing your face into the dirt, grass and soil stinging your eyes. You taste iron on your mouth where you must have bit yourself as you fell. You hear the din of battle all around you.

None of it matters anymore.

All you can focus on is the weight on your back, the insistent pressure on your rear, and the hot breath on the back of your throat contrasting with the cold steel pressed to your throat. You feel rough stubble scratch across your cheek and a low gravelly voice growls into your ear.

"My, my, you gave me a fun chase little doe..." he pauses and you hear the moist slapping of a tongue on lips "tell me... little doe... what does a wolf a do when he catches a doe?"

You only whimper, you may be innocent but you've heard horror stories of what soldiers high on bloodlust and adrenaline do to women. Your response brings the soldier to a peal of roaring laughter, apparently finding mirth in your terror, as he heaves you to your feet; you remain pliant, you have no hope of overpowering the man and you must submit to his will. He sheathes his sword, drawing a small dagger which he presses to the small of your back, before manhandling you into a nearby tent and throwing you in.

You stumble through the tent flaps into some soldier's tent, eyes darting for some way to escape or fight back, you spot a plate lying on a small table at the back of the tent. You try to grab at it but the soldier grasps your arm, turns you to face him, and grabs hold of your hair.

"Stupid slut!"

Before you can struggle he viciously yanks you to the side, smashing your head into the side of the table sending you reeling.

As your entire world is sent spinning you slump to the ground letting your head lol to the side, a confused giggle leaves your mouth at the ticklish, warm, wet sensation going down the side of your face.

The soldier's legs leave your field of view for a second, followed by clattering of random items hitting the ground. Your head begins to wander to the left but suddenly you are lifted up and pushed forward on to the table, your face pressed into the rough wood. You try to figure out just what's going on when a loud ripping sound fills the tent, and you feel the cold air against the top of your legs before a few moments later, that same cold kisses your flower causing your stomach to clench at the feeling.