The lone fire showcased the swirling silent ballet of the blood red content of the fiasco. A sip would be nice. He mustered all of his remaining energy. In a few moments, he had broken into the sangrine passage.
“leave his side”, he cut his brother’s sentence.
..the real battle is tonight.”
In one precise swish of his sword, he found his first battle victim. His blades raged swift and sure through the sea of aerble fighters, snuffing out lives.
He snaked down the passage carefully. His heart was thumping.
His powerful tongue flew five feet forward, to move the bush out of view. At the first sight of the flower, he sprang forward. His father needs medicine.
The half made skeleton of the cathedral loomed large over the insufficient number of plytens building it. When the caged cart passed by, they all came together to look. The whiplash cracked through their murmurs and sent them back to work.
“WHERE ARE YOU PLANNING TO ATTACK?”
“You’ll talk... prince.” he hissed.
His tongue reached the end of the passage, carefully wound around his heart. And squeezed.
He savored every one of the infinite flashes of pain. His heart thudded against the tightening alien constraint.
He watched the swirls slow down… until the liquid was completely still. He released his grip and closed his eyes.
A sip would be nice indeed.