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Moving swiftly, she sprung into action, barely letting her feet touch the ground before leaping forwards, using the tree trunks to push herself towards the enemy. As Kerillian drew close, she chose a tree, using her momentum to spring up the trunk, catching one hand on a branch and dragging herself up to stand, hidden from the group of ratmen by the bulk of the tree trunk. Carefully she eased herself around, nocking her arrow as the Skaven came into view. A group of three clothed in ill fitting rags and wielding crudely sharpened sticks, while a fourth followed behind. The final Skaven slightly taller and with more bulk, wearing armour of crude metals that were kept in place with thick lashings of leather. The creature wielded a crude hunk of metal, more akin to a pile of scrap than an actual sword. With a voice soft enough that Kerillian doubted the rats would have heard her were they standing beside her, she whispered an apology to her weapon. Kerillian had made the bow herself, slaving over the process for a full year, dedicating hours each day to the working of the wood, infusing it with power drawn toons from the forest around her home. It was a work of art, and the slaying of such creatures was below it, but as much as she had made sacrifices to work with the humans, her bow would have to do the same. The first arrow punched through the crude armour at the largest Skaven’s throat, burying itself deep enough that Kerillian was near certain that the tip would be sticking out the other animation side, the second arrow followed before the creature could gasp out its dying Cartoons breath. Two of the other Skaven died before they realised what was happening, with the final one only managing a few steps of fleeing before her final arrow pinned it to the ground. Precious would win them all. Jacob asks, "Are you fucking with me now, Cartoons Lill, because toons I just bared my soul to you and if you're going to fuck with me, then we're just not going to talk anymore." “Aieeeee noooooo!” With a final desperate shriek, I surrender to my orgasm. “How does it taste, slut? “You? “Shit.” she muttered in disgust, getting off of me and pacing back and forth through the room. I returned it as I sighed and left. You keep asking for a boob job. It was one thing if animals were transforming, but if people were vulnerable, then fear and paranoia would run rampant. “What if we have a secret?” she animation suggested. Her legs shook from the anticipation. We both walk out the door and jump into his newish 2013 Ford Focus.