"Languid lilies languish without rain or sun. Training is a valkyrie's wellspring. Our devotion to Iona is our guiding sun. Take this!" I say, knocking you down with an potent punch. You lie sprawled on the ground, sweat staining your ruined garments. Your disheveled hair swirls around your heavy chest. I can't help but drool at your slovenly form. How cute.

"A weak Valkyrie like you deserves to be nurtured," I say, licking her ear. Training can wait. "This as Iona wills." I coo.