Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-24849899-20151028205131/@comment-26948101-20151207084610

"I've read the history books from your realm, General..." Ilassa hissed as Mari and the Demon Lord were now physically restraining her. "What tribe are we- the Lakota? the Cherokee? How many diseased blankets and trinkets will you offer my subjects to placate your consciences before walling us off?"

She was furious now, and the General was pretty sure- despite the silim'x renowned affinity for human males- that he would've been in danger of being physically harmed by Ilassa if not for the intervention of her mother and sister.

"Release me at once...." the 13th daughter of the Demon Lord snarled at her mother. "This....this charlatan-"

*SMACK*

Surprisingly, it was Mari who delivered the open-handed slap to her younger sister. It was a loud, ugly sound in the confines of the General's tent. Mari hated to do it, but it was a much more attractive option than letting Ilassa continue her potentially deadly outburst.

"That's enough out of you..." the Demon Lord said cooly as Ilassa, still shocked, rubbed at the red welt on her face.

"How could you say that!?" Mari asked her sister angrily. "How could you even THINK that when outside this tent are hundreds of humans so very far from home giving food, medical care and shelter to our subjects in an hour of need? How DARE you?"

Ilassa, for once, was at a loss for words.

"I....I don't like the directive any more than you do, sister." Mari continued. "But that doesn't give you the right to throw a fit like a spoiled brat and harm our guest."