We All Must Rise

His blood felt like it was boiling beneath the colored layers of his skin and flesh, sweat beaded down his chest and his sides heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Misael was a fit man, but it took a lot from him to move as fast as he had through the misty wood. He was awfully confused, hurt, lost. So lost. There had to be some sort of civilization here, he knew Helovians had traveled here, but where were they now? Could no one help him? Had he been forsaken? These thoughts bounced off the walls of his mind, trying desperately to make sense of anything that had just occurred. He didn't deserve this. Misael's desire for revenge was just a seed in his chest, but it already stuck within him like a virus and began to grow rapidly inside Misael. He needed to find others in hopes that they may lead him in the right direction to get his beloved Laz back. He would not accept that Laz would willingly leave Misael. It simply couldn't be. He took tentative steps forward, holding his head low as he forced himself to go on. He didn't realize till the sting of mosses rubbing against his legs that he had cut himself up when he had taken off in a blinded gallop, red stained his golden pillars and bite at him with the salty mix of his sweat and blood. He would have to get himself cleaned up, the gallant and regal Misael he once was known as, now nothing but a tangled mess of dirt, sweat, blood, and a whole lot of anger. He isn't sure how he didn't hear the stallion who appeared before him now-- just another thing he had Laz for. He was a whole other set of eyes and ears, but now Misael solely depended on his own instincts and senses. Misael stopped quickly in his advances, timid with anything he encountered in this world that he knew nothing of, this world that he didn't belong in. The stallion was painted with dark inks and ebonites, Misael might have even mistaken him for a shadow with how abruptly dark he was. He wasn't sure what to think about him, about anything really, but hell had already rained upon him, so how could it get any worse? He rose his head and straightened up, although he was certain he looked like quite the mess, "I am Misael. I pray you are not here to bring me anymore horrors." He stated simply, having nothing inside him to fight anymore, exhausted and in pain, the Chromed just wanted out and he hoped this man would be of aid, his inner spark expiring as the time passed. Save me from this hell he prayed. OCC: Misael