He could hear it again, rushing at him like a tidal wave of voices, as his hooves press into the dirt of the Colosseum floor. They chant his name above the roar of beasts, his blade hitting the hard rock ground as he calls out for more, despite the blood that tangles with his dark hair and streams down his face. His amber eyes alight with flame, though nothing more, as magic is forbidden when fighting for sport, and he is no cheater. He can hear the clanking and the groaning of chain as the gates lift. The sound of claws scrapping brick and stone, the ground vibrating beneath his feet with each step from his larger opponent. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath...
But when he opens them again, he is somewhere else. There is no crowd and no dragon to fight. The battle ring he stands in is not the one of Hadyn. In his grasp is not his sword, and the raging voices fade out to nothing but the wind whistling through the cracks of sandstone. The sun casts deep shadows from where it sits behind the Colosseum walls, sending a chill through the warrior's bones. He lets out his breath in a sigh, his head dipping and eyes closing. It only takes but a moment for his magic to warm his body, but his soul remains to feel cold. He has not been gone for long, but it feels like centuries...
His ears flicker at a sound. Scurrying, it sounds like, but not at the feet of an equine, but something much smaller. His eyes open and ears prick, both guarded and curious. Slowly, he makes his way toward the sound, his defenses raised, but exhaustion keeping his muscles from tensing. If he were to die today, from an unknown small predator, he couldnt say it would be his worst day.
The sound had long since faded since he peeked his head around a corner, but it was then that he found the little creatures. They took one look at him before scattering once more, the sound of their feet clambering across the hard ground akin the sound before. However, there was another with them. An equine. A man of a light dappled coat and shimmering silver hair; golden markings etched across his skin. He was merely standing, seeming unphased by the creatures scurrying at his feet.
For a moment, Dondre allowed silence to fall between them, the sun now soaking against his back and the breeze tangling his long tail against his fetlocks. He hummed quietly to himself before finally choosing to speak up. "Greetings." His voice was deep and strong, like that of a soldier's, but hinted at fatigue, like that of a soldier who had fought for too long.
But when he opens them again, he is somewhere else. There is no crowd and no dragon to fight. The battle ring he stands in is not the one of Hadyn. In his grasp is not his sword, and the raging voices fade out to nothing but the wind whistling through the cracks of sandstone. The sun casts deep shadows from where it sits behind the Colosseum walls, sending a chill through the warrior's bones. He lets out his breath in a sigh, his head dipping and eyes closing. It only takes but a moment for his magic to warm his body, but his soul remains to feel cold. He has not been gone for long, but it feels like centuries...
His ears flicker at a sound. Scurrying, it sounds like, but not at the feet of an equine, but something much smaller. His eyes open and ears prick, both guarded and curious. Slowly, he makes his way toward the sound, his defenses raised, but exhaustion keeping his muscles from tensing. If he were to die today, from an unknown small predator, he couldnt say it would be his worst day.
The sound had long since faded since he peeked his head around a corner, but it was then that he found the little creatures. They took one look at him before scattering once more, the sound of their feet clambering across the hard ground akin the sound before. However, there was another with them. An equine. A man of a light dappled coat and shimmering silver hair; golden markings etched across his skin. He was merely standing, seeming unphased by the creatures scurrying at his feet.
For a moment, Dondre allowed silence to fall between them, the sun now soaking against his back and the breeze tangling his long tail against his fetlocks. He hummed quietly to himself before finally choosing to speak up. "Greetings." His voice was deep and strong, like that of a soldier's, but hinted at fatigue, like that of a soldier who had fought for too long.
@Orestes
