.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
10-09-2015, 12:22 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-10-2015, 03:32 PM by Tembovu.
Edit Reason: tags
)
His massive horn hits its target. A few scales give way beneath the force of his blow, but the god’s hide is too thick for it to pierce through to his heart. His eyes are on Rexanna, who he proudly watches scrape some armor from the failing god. His chest burns with furor, eyes glowing with warlust and happiness. He had thought his body would protect her from injury.
But he was wrong, as the crocodile shoves his sharp skin into her delicate face. He curses aloud, ignoring the wrenching in his knee as he sweeps over to the gilded princess. His large body comes between her and the beast— but suddenly there is stillness. And silence. And the Sun God’s powerful, booming voice.
The crocodile is gone. Tokens of valor handed around to the warriors on the field. At his feet falls the skull of the giant lizard. Dark blue eyes study the gift, then look up at the Sun. He deeply bows his head, now understanding the reason for the fervor and loyalty the battlefield had shown to the deity.
He glances towards Mauja, ensuring that his lead is not grievously injured, before reaching down to grab the skull. It sparks his skin, still pulsing with the dying power of a god. Thoughts of what enchantments this skull will have begin to swirl through his large skill— ouch. A large skull that is pounding. Aching. He had thought the ringing in his ears was from the battle. But clearly it was something more.
Through eyes that were beginning to blur in the reflection of the flats, he sees Ophelia give her armor to another. His brows raise in surprise, for that is clearly the lead of Dragon’s Throat. There is so much history here that he does not know. He returns his eyes to Mauja, bobbing his painful head once.
Eyes squinting in pain, with a trickle of blood dribbling from his ears, he follows Rexanna to the edge of the battleground— seeking a quieter place away from others to ease the ache in his head. “Are you—” he winces as his deep voice rattles around in his skull, “—alright?” His words end on a whisper.
Please tag Tembovu.
