“Where the hell is a damn healer when you need one.”

The words are spit half-heartedly through the stallion’s pinched lips, every syllable hissing through his teeth as his jaws tighten from the pain of his body. Having honorably completed the glass-spear spar with the mammoth of a king, the warrior had laboriously dragged himself in towards the center of the territory. His offending weapon of glass had been momentarily abandoned at the place of their battle, resting among the blood-soaked grass and glinting beneath the rising sun, carelessly forsaken as the battered Sergeant focused his attention elsewhere.

Truly, with the way the wildfire of agony rages through every muscle and bone of his body, Rohan could hardly concentrate on anything else if he wanted to. The deep gash across his chest feels like someone is digging their claws into his flesh, ripping through angrily in search of his heart—and his side (oh, his side). The thick fillet of meat and skin—hacked haphazardly by Tembovu’s blade, as though the warrior was being dissected—still hangs from the rest of him, dangling like a grotesque cloth. They are raw wounds, still seeping hot blood and begging for infection.

Knowing that the heart of the Edge is likely frequented by herd members, Rohan had come here, finally resting beneath the lavender canopy that the Basin had gifted them. A healer is bound to come by at some point, right?

Wearily he stands, and waits. His antlered head is relaxed to the point of his shoulder, and each of his legs stand straight, trembling with weariness and fighting to bear his weight. The Warlander might have lowered himself to the ground, but even those motions are too painful; instead he stands, shuddering from waves of pain and exhaustion that drown him, simply waiting for his body to collapse on its own. Each breath is agony. Green eyes are listless and bleary, his head swimming from the extent of his blood loss. And all he can do—is wait.


notes; He needs a healer please! ;-;
Continued from this spar, and these are Rohan's injuries if it's not clear: A bleeding, muscle-deep cut from the middle of his breast to the left point of his lower neck; a gash-turned-fillet-o-muscle from the right of his back to just above his right flank (the spear entered and exited through Rohan's back/side area, and then when he pulled away, the spear ripped out and left a chuck of his skin hanging); and a streak of grazed skin across his left cheek.
“Speech.”