cheetah from madagascar

The next morning, Valia stood in the garden behind her home, overgrown after a year of neglect, but still beautiful. She held her sword out in front of her, breathing deeply. Step by step, she underwent the Dance of the Ivunara, an elvish custom performed before battle, as well as for exercise. It was a war dance to ease the body’s mana flow and loosen the muscles. Each day was easier, and she felt like she almost back to her old self.

Her hands shot up above her head, one to cover her mouth, while the other reached up to the ceiling to brace herself. Sarah’s body rocked with the most powerful orgasm she ever had. Every part of her trembled, shaking the bed as her toes curled in, but her hand on the ceiling kept her steady. Clapping her hand over her mouth she was barely able to suppress a long moan that came directly from her core. Her eyes were glued to her father watching his breath and listening to his snoring. Finally, her rolling orgasm came to an end, her father letting out a loud snore as he exhaled.

“Your loss to Bella does not undo everything you, Sophia, and Cyrilo have accomplished. The literature program you’ve established is a blessing for this world, and you and Sophia managed to take down a gold-ranked knight who was standing in the way of public education. That is no small feat. You’re too young to be focusing on your regrets, on what you couldn’t do. The story of the Bow Mistress is only just beginning. When the war against the Profane is over, they’ll sing songs and legends about you, about how you fought and saved this world. And your clash with Bella? That’ll be a good story for you to tell around the campfire.”