Very well

Lyra follows along behind her alpha. Her cunt is exposed. Shes bound, dripping, ****. And she's carrying all of Aakhas gear. A horny little pack mule.

Aakha tracks the wolfs down, and dispatches them, with well-trained ferocity. In battle, she is a beast, wielding her axe with deadly precision and brute strength.

The last wolf she kills with her bare hands, wrestling it to the ground and tearing apart its jaw.

Lyra watches, enraptured by the power of her mistress. As the last wolf dies she steps close, and her mistress turns.

Sharp fangs, blood smeared across her face, wild eyes. Lyra is caught off guard, as Aakha leaps to her feet, her hand grabbing lyras neck and pinning her against a tree. Hands tear at her clothes, her backpack, ripping it away.

Lyra moans, as the panties are pulled out of her mouth, and she is kissed roughly, the orcs fangs digging into her lips.

Aakhas leggings fall away, and her thick cock is pressed up against Lyras needy slit.

Lyra whimpers "Please. Please fuck me. Please"

Aakha doesn't hear her. She can smell Lyras need, and in her animal rage, thats all that matters.

She thrusts her cock in hard and fast, filling and stretching her bitches cunt.