Each step made a different pain surge through her veins. Her left side looked beaten, burnt, bruised, and broken, and that was because it was. Her shoulder had at least, at least, a four degree burn, and all the mare wanted to know, was why? Her ivory coat had one severe gash on the shoulder, underneath her burn, then a smaller cut over her ribs, and this was.. on the left side. With every step, every movement, her back ached and she nearly fell. The main ribs, broken. The antler, dream-catcher, stallion. The sound still rings in her ears. The sound of three cracking bones. His hooves had collided with those rib as he fell, well tried to fall onto her face, but she dodged it.. for the most part. His hooves had landed hard into her back. Ribs. Her ribs were snapped.
All the fighting had been for nothing, for in the end, Locket had just obliviously forfeited. He knew horses were nearly dying right? It was a positive for him, but no one else. How many horses lay flat, dead or un-dead. As quickly as it was over, she had fell. Walking away from Lakota alive was great, but she had fallen. Warriors do not fall, and try to get back up, but it was pointless. Her front hooves and legs were folded delicately under her light frame. Her cranium stretching out and laying nearly flat against the soft grass. She let a soft moan escape her inky lips. Blood trickled from her open wounds. Bruises covering her frame. Her burn had gotten crisp. She took deep breaths and let oxygen flow in and out of her lungs. Soft cyan orbs peered around. Healers bustling everywhere. This was Grey territory, well Foothills, and she may not be tended to. "Can I have a healer?" Her voice croaked as it left her baked throat. The sun heating her back, and now sweat beaded into the blood that had started matting her ivory fur.
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