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10-04-2015, 08:02 PM
rohan
It had not been with any degree of caution or expertise that the Warlander had plunged himself into the turmoil of battle. He is far from a practiced warrior. It is mostly the cry of warfare, the call of blood and violence, the instinct to fight and defend that guides his large body forward. He only knows the desire in his heart and the fire in his veins, the drive and the will, and he listens to them blindly.
He is not even half the fighter that his brother had been—by no fault of his own (or so he tells himself). He had been put aside while Killian had been trained and roughened in the art of combat, the younger left to his own fantastical devices.
An experienced warrior would probably have been more conscientious of his surroundings, more strategic in his advance, but Rohan is not. He plunges forward recklessly, with a snarling cry of war releasing itself in a low rumble from his lips. It is purely by chance that the Warlander manages to reach his target unscathed (or reach his target at all, for that matter). Dodging the chaos of bodies, he feels the arch of his neck stiffen and jolt as the points of his antlers make contact with the Rift God’s back.
With a misplaced smile of victory curling across his lips, Rohan is not modest in the blooming of triumph that fires through every fiber of his being, igniting his muscles and lending to his foolish carelessness.
Staying close to the crocodile’s side (for he couldn’t have moved, even if he’d wanted to) the large stallion thrusts himself upward. Rising in a powerful rear with pale hair flying and hooves flailing, the Warlander steadies himself before plunging downwards. He aims the force of his fore hooves at the opponent’s neck, hoping to impale—or otherwise damage—the base of the crocodile’s skull. His body sings with adrenaline, green eyes narrowing in his resolve.
notes; TEAM SUN GOD.
After scraping the crocodile's back, Rohan rears up and forcibly pushes himself down, aiming his front hooves at the back of the Rift God's neck/base of his skull.
“Speech.”
He is not even half the fighter that his brother had been—by no fault of his own (or so he tells himself). He had been put aside while Killian had been trained and roughened in the art of combat, the younger left to his own fantastical devices.
An experienced warrior would probably have been more conscientious of his surroundings, more strategic in his advance, but Rohan is not. He plunges forward recklessly, with a snarling cry of war releasing itself in a low rumble from his lips. It is purely by chance that the Warlander manages to reach his target unscathed (or reach his target at all, for that matter). Dodging the chaos of bodies, he feels the arch of his neck stiffen and jolt as the points of his antlers make contact with the Rift God’s back.
With a misplaced smile of victory curling across his lips, Rohan is not modest in the blooming of triumph that fires through every fiber of his being, igniting his muscles and lending to his foolish carelessness.
Staying close to the crocodile’s side (for he couldn’t have moved, even if he’d wanted to) the large stallion thrusts himself upward. Rising in a powerful rear with pale hair flying and hooves flailing, the Warlander steadies himself before plunging downwards. He aims the force of his fore hooves at the opponent’s neck, hoping to impale—or otherwise damage—the base of the crocodile’s skull. His body sings with adrenaline, green eyes narrowing in his resolve.
notes; TEAM SUN GOD.
After scraping the crocodile's back, Rohan rears up and forcibly pushes himself down, aiming his front hooves at the back of the Rift God's neck/base of his skull.
“Speech.”
RUN AWAY WITH ME
lost souls and reverie; running wild and running free.
lost souls and reverie; running wild and running free.
![[Image: 57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png]](http://orig06.deviantart.net/bb9e/f/2017/138/7/1/57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png)
please tag Rohan in all replies!
magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.
