The chaos surrounding Einarr brought back memories of flying into battle with his home herd. The nomadic peoples he was born into often waged war against other nomadic tribes of different races and religions, taking their grazing lands and their assets. This was no unusual practice for the stallion. But this act of warfare, this fight against gods was unheard of in his birthland. But the Gods of Helovia had commanded it with their actions, and those were the true Gods Einarr had chosen to follow in this land. Gods waged wars against each other, but never had Einarr known them to inculude mortals. It must be important to have these new territories, for they came at a great cause.

As the inky stallion fanned the flames summoned by those around him, some of the fire created by his own, newly claimed kin, Einarr grunted some. The effort of keeping himself in this position was great, and just as he decided to go higher, the tar beneath him splattered. It was like grease out of a hot skillet, and it singed down the warrior's throat and chest. The man let loose a cry of pain, and his wings moved quickly to swallow up the air beneath them and give him altitude. As he pulled himself upwards, his back legs kicked out furiously, aimed for the tiger's spine. He hoped to immobilize the tigress, and Einarr knew the destruction that could be done with a well-placed kick to the spinal cord. However, he did not think he had enough power to do so as he moved away from her--but the thought behind his attack was well meant.

As he moved higher in the sky, the stallion writhed some in the pain he experienced. Turning his body, he let himself land some yards away from the tigress. Angered by the wound he sustained, Einarr opened his mouth and let his rank magic slip into the loud cry he emitted. The bloodrider noticed his daughter on the oother side of the tigress than he, and his trained , sienna eyes caught sight of her injury. What had happened? Einarr was not sure, so it must have happened when he was injured by the tar. Anger, like the fires around him, swelled in his chest and he barrelled forward, rearing at the last moment and flapping his wings hard to balance as he struck out with cloven hooves towards the Tiger's head.

einarr

I raise my flag and dye my clothes
It's a revolution, I suppose
We're painted red to fit right in