Archibald’s magic dies down and the Chief lifts his body up again to a prideful stature, though his face is masked and marred with pain. His bright golden eyes have dimmed and his wet forelock clings to his blazed brow in cold, stringy strands. Thankfully his mane naturally flops onto the opposite side of his neck, to coarse fibers keeping themselves out of the mess. Flicking his tail behind him, whips of water flying off at its end, the male took careful strides towards Jackal. His ribcage ached as he walked, taught black skin pulling over it and stretching the bruised muscle. The Dauntless moves like a wraith, stained feathers sticking to his ankles and large hooves falling soundless over the muddy earth. It is not nearly two steps the Dauntless takes before he hears the familiar hissing sound.

Panic fills his heart and lungs and he instantly started forward at a canter, pain rippling through his body. His limps scream for him to stop but all he can think is run. Run, to save yourself from the flames. Alas, his running does not save him. The heat hits first and Archibald closes his eyes, but keeps running blindly. For an instant, he is thankful Jackal’s attacks stayed clear of his pillar like appendages that now were his only form of safety. The heat is quickly followed by a pain he had not forgotten—it consumed him as the flames licked over his dock, focused more on the right side than the left. Archibald’s teeth clenched and he finally came to a halt, breathing heavy. His skin boiled and bubbled—the burns on his rump not as severe as the ones on his neck. Archibald’s muscles quivered as he bit back a scream of pain. His golden eyes were held shut by black lids, veiling his pain as he tried to regain composure.

Loretta stands wide-eyed, heart seemingly stopped in her chest and stomach in her throat. Her ears pin back and she runs quickly for Archibald’s side. She does not dare touch him—suddenly afraid of his massiveness and anger—but merely stays with him for support. Hearing her muted bond mate take one, deep breath she lifts her agile paws to follow in his steps. The Dauntless turns to face Jackal now, lifting his head proudly and opening his eyes to match the stormy gaze of the Spanish mutt. Rain sputters and attacks his rump, and as he turns he limps with effort and exhaustion—even with his battle buff of endure he felt tired. The storm raged above the heads of the Chiefs—now finished with their battle—and Archibald stood like a statue, eyes cold and ever-challenging.



[WC: 555 | Closing Defense | Archibald runs away from Dei's fire but it catches his rump, more on the right than the left. The burn is not as bad as he one on his neck.]