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One Kur regarded us, a trembling, bleeding verr hanging from its jaws. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 60, Sentence #31)

When we had rushed forth, crowded together, fearing the irons, it had taken us but a moment to register, and react to, the carnage into which we had been introduced. The grass here and there had been soaked with blood, and parts of verr, organs and limbs, skin and heads, were scattered about the field. Half-eaten bodies lay about. One Kur regarded us, a trembling, bleeding verr hanging from its jaws. I fear I was not the only kajira who screamed in fear and misery. At the height of the tiers, on a separate platform, raised above the last tier, there was a helmeted fellow in the garb of the House of a Hundred Corridors, who stood near a stand on which there was fixed a large trumpet. It was that trumpet, I supposed, that had emitted the blast that had initiated the games, if one might so refer to them. - (Plunder of Gor)