No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
It seemed that the wraith was incarcerated; helpless in its ruthless endeavour to spread that infection which so very obviously rotted its core. Triumphant eyes held brilliantly the scene as it brought closer the monster to its demise, the healing waters; a promise of renewed life. Wings speckled with the intense golden-red of fire lifted with restrained enthusiasm from each flank, saluting the brilliant ability of his guilt brother in arms. Russet lips peeled away from the marbled row of blunt teeth to cheer, but something caught in his throat- and the giant chestnut found himself instead coughing unpleasantly, staggering for the moment off the one side.
For not one second had he presumed himself to be infested; the wraith had not bitten him (deeply), rather grazed her foul mouth across the ridge of his cannon- but then he wondered, heart sinking suddenly, whether simply the spatter of her saliva had been just enough to soak filth into his vulnerable system. "No…" he gasped breathlessly, helplessly- angrily; stumbling from the vicinity of Midas who had chained still their prize tightly in his magic. Still his thoughts were lucid and shrewd as though he had woken freshly from a deep sleep; though was that only the adrenaline flooding with flailing revelation. Never had such a cough rattled in his chest- and so quickly it had formed; again he coughed, burying carefully his parted lips beneath the drape of one enormous wing.
As the thick reach of his neck stiffened upwards again, another ploughed forward from the midst of anticipating bodies behind, and the tri-bred stallion’s ears fell swiftly into the scatter of his long soft mane. Surprise was his initial reaction, balking as the unfamiliar stallion’s sudden appearance loomed before him- but more so at the sharp light which suddenly blinded him; and his eyes burnt in its ferocious glare. He couldn’t help the subtle writhe of his heavy corpse as the spreading illness fought angrily the weight of the sun’s touch upon it- never had Hector felt so pained but the element he favoured so. His mind wrestled the ache in his core, and eyes flashed apart defiantly just in time to find the black stallion bursting against the flex of his copper shoulder.
Veci hissed vehemently; silently at the golden orb suspended before his partner, wrapping indignantly his invisible form around it, strangling its existence with a harmless grasp.
As Midas’s resonating command fell between them, Hector’s focus was pulled from the attacking male as he muscled against the resistance of pinned, chestnut legs; "Get off me!" He hollered uncharacteristically, frustration fuelling the fervour in his voice; but there was something else, some wicked streak through his conscience which wanted the smaller beast to suff… The giant’s teeth snapped shut then, his mouth pulling rapidly from the position of his pursuer. "Midas, my mind is clear- but I fear…"
Hector coughed again, the rasp still courser as some substance alike to phlem rose to slick his repulsed tongue- anticipating the wretch of his lungs even before the spluttering had begun, the stallion had turned quickly into the cusp of his drawn wing like before.
"I must drink."
Perhaps the illness would take many more hours to truly overwhelm his being, he had never witnessed another’s plummet into wraith-form, but he could no deny the wave of unwell as it settled within him. With the soldier still flanking his movements, the twice-horned stallion swept around towards the mouth of the cave; and though his body for a moment dithered there upon its rim, he thrust himself down towards the Wall of History.
[Note: meh, I hope this was played well. I don’t know exactly how the sickness works. Sevin, can Oxy babysit him until he drinks in this thread please? Midas is pretty caught up xD]
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