Warlight is alive and conscious. That much processes by the time the cantering pale stallion reaches the antlered female and the darkly toned stallion standing over her. Emerald and mahogany, he's almost a perfect inverse of Raul himself. Tall where the other is stocky, verdant locks in place of his flame. Crowned with his own style of horns. Despite this, Raul knew he wouldn't hesitate to bust this cocky son of a bitch's jaw if it came down to it. He may not hold his brother's gifts, but pride and fire pulsed through his veins the same as it did for the rest of his kin.
A rough snort whispered through his nostrils as the buck bumped against his thick chest, demanding the same answers from his lips as Warlight had, though in much angrier tones. Fuckin' bring it, asshole. His jaw tightened, eyes flickering between green boy and the painted mare behind him. Warlight's sharp admonishment broke his determination to finish whatever altercation this Clayton wanted to push into. The fact that the two seemed to have a shared history did nothing to endear him.
Tossing his head indifferently, Raul took a single step back, marginally widening the space between them. He glanced over Warlight more thoroughly, looking for any signs of trauma or injury beyond what he knew of. Nothing obvious jumped out at him, lucky for Clayton.
Out of nowhere, a spasmodic cough wracked through him, tearing his throat in a symptom he'd hoped he was through with. Thick iron tang filled his mouth. The coughing fit stuck in his chest, making it hard to get enough air. It felt like his ribs wanted to crack under the strain, when something broke loose.
In a gust of air, his lungs expelled the wad of congealed blood and mucus that had worked its way up his throat. Head low to the ground, he breathed deeply for the first in a long time. Spitting the remnants of bloody discharge from his maw, the youth raised his now-throbbing head with some effort. Blood stained lips stretched in a macabre grin as his eyes shut momentarily.
"Raul. My name is... Raul."
His voice rasped into the air, a smoke-clogged whisper between them. Was that it? Had the poison left his body at last? Or would he always feel it gripping him, somewhere between his blood and skin. He suspected the latter would be true. One could not go through what he had and come out the other side unchanged. Physically or mentally, probably both. He knew it, and so did the night-eyed girl he'd followed here. Tree colored blokes be damned, Raul realized he wouldn't give up such a girl so easily. Looking to meet her lovely gaze, a kinder smile colored his features.
@[Warlight] @[Clayton]
A rough snort whispered through his nostrils as the buck bumped against his thick chest, demanding the same answers from his lips as Warlight had, though in much angrier tones. Fuckin' bring it, asshole. His jaw tightened, eyes flickering between green boy and the painted mare behind him. Warlight's sharp admonishment broke his determination to finish whatever altercation this Clayton wanted to push into. The fact that the two seemed to have a shared history did nothing to endear him.
Tossing his head indifferently, Raul took a single step back, marginally widening the space between them. He glanced over Warlight more thoroughly, looking for any signs of trauma or injury beyond what he knew of. Nothing obvious jumped out at him, lucky for Clayton.
Out of nowhere, a spasmodic cough wracked through him, tearing his throat in a symptom he'd hoped he was through with. Thick iron tang filled his mouth. The coughing fit stuck in his chest, making it hard to get enough air. It felt like his ribs wanted to crack under the strain, when something broke loose.
In a gust of air, his lungs expelled the wad of congealed blood and mucus that had worked its way up his throat. Head low to the ground, he breathed deeply for the first in a long time. Spitting the remnants of bloody discharge from his maw, the youth raised his now-throbbing head with some effort. Blood stained lips stretched in a macabre grin as his eyes shut momentarily.
"Raul. My name is... Raul."
His voice rasped into the air, a smoke-clogged whisper between them. Was that it? Had the poison left his body at last? Or would he always feel it gripping him, somewhere between his blood and skin. He suspected the latter would be true. One could not go through what he had and come out the other side unchanged. Physically or mentally, probably both. He knew it, and so did the night-eyed girl he'd followed here. Tree colored blokes be damned, Raul realized he wouldn't give up such a girl so easily. Looking to meet her lovely gaze, a kinder smile colored his features.
@[Warlight] @[Clayton]