The Silvan village, home to the silver-back Lycan tribe, all gathered in the village centre, looking at the beaten figure of Zell, his handsome face now bruised and filled with cuts from the mother of Edelgard punishing him.
However, despite this, the cute Lycan did not thank her mother or the villagers who promised to protect her, instead as if a masochist addicted to his abuse helped tend to his wounds, rubbing her body and tail against his, as if to cover him in her scent, looking at the other women with a strange and territorial look.
'Oh, my? My little girl, is she doing this subconsciously?' Freyja thought to herself, stroking her chin as her strong muscles contracted as she watched the man's actions; if his hand slapped her ass again, may the all-mother save his soul.
Zell felt his body was still aching from that blow that sent him flying, almost killing him instantly.