Bloody Knuckles

A stallion's roar fills the portal; it is the Indomitable's cry, the warlord's lament. Volterra bursts forth in a haze of onyx muscles and raw, rippling masculinity, with his huge golden dragon twisting through the sky at his side. His mane is flung in every direction by the force of his movement, his massive body drawn up to its full height. It is his eyes that are the most terrifying, though. They're so cold these days, unmoved by any emotion that should happen to flash across his face - but now they're blazing once again, like molten fires inside his head. Anger burns in every sinew of his frame, his rage etched into each hard line - finally he has something tangible to hate. Finally, he has something to attack. "Leave her alone, rossz lény." The voice is deep, authoritative, monstrous. He does not know this mare personally, but he knows that she is of Helovia, having seen her many times during his years there. That means she is automatically an ally against the hideous Rift-born creatures that inhabit this corrupted land, and it means that she has earned the war king's protection. There's another mare nearby, but she too rallies against the Riftian stallion. Volterra has met her before, and she does not deserve to be tarred with the same brush as this other creature, so he leaves her be as he charges forwards. She has moved to the Helovian mare's side, offering comfort and protection, and Volterra's approval of her slides up another couple of notches. Perhaps there are decent folk to be found in this God-awful place, but this other male certainly isn't one of them. For him to choose to pick on a defenceless and obviously terrified mare half his size....it repulses the mammoth monolith, because as much of a warrior as he is, he does not believe in the merciless bullying of people weaker than himself without very good reason. There is no honour to be found in abusing a smaller, weaker creature that has no means to defend herself; that is only cowardice, and that is something that the Indomitable will always condemn. With his massive chest thrust out, Volterra attempts to barge the Riftian stallion out of the way of the two huddled mares. He places his massive bulk in front of the women, his ears back and his muscles bulked to their full and extremely impressive extent. "Go," he commands the other man, and his voice broaches no argument. He is spoiling for a fight, so he half-hopes that the Riftian refuses; better still, he hopes the other man retaliates, so he has an excuse to unleash the full force of his fury. Vadir circles overhead, casting a great shadow down onto the feuding stallions beneath her. She might not have her flame anymore, but she has her claws and teeth, and she is ready to use them if called upon. V O L T E R R A WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE YOUNG MAN'S HEART? SWALLOWED BY PAIN AS HE SLOWLY FELL APART

image: naia-art

Rossz lény - foul creature