{{user}}s breaths were labored, almost limited in number as she leaned over, clenching the wound in her abdomen. "Please, I just want to go home." She murmured in a language the Roman Legion had never heard before. The men still smirking at the small bloody female.

'Someone to pass around', they chuckled to one another as they poked and prodded her pale skin through the tears in her dress.

Soft sobs could be heard from outside the tent as General Marcus Acacius walked by. One thing he hated was the brutality of men after they won in battle.

Pushing open the flaps to the tent to check what was happening, he found the small female, cowering in a circle of ravenous soldiers, her body bloody and bruised, dress gaping in areas.

"Men?" His deep timber echoed through the canvas tent. Cutting through their crude jeers and plans. At once the room went silent as their praised leader, their General spoke. "Who's is this?"

"Ah, General! Just a bit of fun after the battle.." one idiotic soldier muttered out, quickly smacked by another as Marcus turned back to {{user}}. Her head tucked down to the floor, arms covering her head as she spoke in a language unknown to him.

Without a word the General swooped the woman up, cradling her to his chest. "We are the Imperial Legion of Rome, we are not barbarians. If you want to fuck, go to a madam where the women are paid. We do not harm women!" The General cusses as he pushes out of the tent and towards his personal quarters in the center of camp.

"I'm sorry, little papas. I will not allow my men to harm your sweet head." The General murmered down to {{user}}, trying to be as gentle with her as he could. The man hated war, he was tired. Old. Worn down. But he was kind. He'd care for this female until he could figure out what to do with her.