i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
In an instant, his world was chaos.
The thick cloak of smoke and ash burned his eyes and his lungs but still he pressed forward. Sweat streaked his blue-black coat and his nostrils flared red. All around him were the grunts and moans that accompanied war, and the sounds alone were enough to make his blood flow hot like fire. Despite the ache in his muscles, despite the pounding in his head, he kept pressing forward. The iron gray lioness snarled and writhed, arcing a heavy paw over his flesh. Her claws hung in the muscle and he screamed in fury and pain as he whirled around to face her. However the battle was quick and it wasn’t long before his fight with her was lost to another opponent. They came from all sides and aimed at him. As the original attacked of the Amazonian mare, he had apparently incited the wrath of each and every horse who subsequently entered the Chamber. It wasn’t long before he lost track of faces, though the dragon winged titan that plowed into him wasn’t easily forgotten. For a moment Warship thought he had been crushed by a boulder until he smelled the stallion on top of him. It took every bit of strength he had in his ancient body to keep from being crushed beneath the dinner-plate sized hooves. Off to the other side Killdare was fighting his own battles, and Warship was pleased to see the bay doing reasonably well. Kimber joined the fray and Warship spared a moment to shoot her one of his customary scowls. However, before he could shout any words of encouragement or even right himself completely from all the blows he had sustained, vines wrapped around his legs.
The vines had him trapped. They pulled and tugged at him, piercing his flesh with the strength of their hold. No amount of writhing would free them no matter how much he tried and oh, how he tried. The old General flailed until he felt weak from it, until his ribs heaved with exhaustion. Suddenly, he could feel his strength draining. It wasn’t just that he was tired (he was exhausted); he could actually feel himself draining. It was almost as if a plug had been pulled and everything he had was swirling down the drain. His eyes found Kimber’s and he felt a moment of panic, knowing that soon she would be left alone. There was something about the mare that lured him in, even if she was an insufferable brat the majority of the time. She was his brat and he was currently failing her. Calling on every last reserve within his weakening body he crawled forward, his eyes only on the thickening pines. He would only die on his own terms and not those set by some Amazonian bitch. He would die for his kingdom one hundred times over, but he wouldn’t die for the magical mare once. If she wanted what he had then she could come and get it.
warship
ooc - so basically prague sucked 99% of the life out of him. he is out of the fight until further notice
