Into the golden sunlit savannah they search, riling each other up, intensifying their hatred of this weak race. As a whole their breath is taken away ...hen they stumble on their slain comrades. Their hatred vanishing into thin air with their shock. The leader of this group stood over his own brother, rage building. The rage took over, he could hear a foreign deep primal roar, it was his. He felt nothing except extreme focus he marched straight for their village. The others followed in awe and a. 36-C breasts if my guess was accurate. They were firm and bounced very nicely when she moved - a little too big in proportion to her frame but you weren't about to hear me complaining. Fairly long brunette hair that just reached the bottom of her shoulder blades. Wide lips, upturned nose, gray eyes with dark brows and lashes behind a pair of granny glasses. She was wearing the college equivalent of a conservative business suit for that time - sandals, wide black vinyl belt, Navy blue midi skirt. More

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