[i]The injured woman was, aside from her injuries, by all means gorgeous. Her form was nigh-perfect, everything proportional and just large enough. However; that beauty had been crushed by whoever had gotten their hands on her. Her right eye was now a milky white, the product of an orbital blowout fracture, meaning she was half-blind. On her shoulder, between the torn parts of her shirt, there was a brand, that of a sparrow in flight. From her neck down, someone looked to have had a field day with a knife and a blowtorch. Bruises and other marks dotted her torso, and it was pretty clear that she had definitely suffered some internal injuries. Her legs and feet were also sliced and burned as well. She was quite surprised when the woman began to paint on her stomach, the touch of the bristles making her squirm. When the paint was ignited, however, she jolted and tried to scream, a pathetic sort of guttural whine escaping her lips, revealing that her tongue had been rather brutally removed. Everything hurt like hell... just like that damned blowtorch. She felt her cracked ribs heal, her ankle go back into place, and it was hell all over again. Once the rune had completely burned away, everyone noticed that the marks had not gone away. Most of her injuries were permanent, bound to leave her covered in scars and scar tissue. Nonetheless, at least her wounds were now healed and no longer tender. Laying on the table, she breathed heavily, chest rising and falling sharply.[/i]