The cloud looms darkly in the skies, and smoke from the large campfire escapes to swirl above the bloodied field.
The deathly drums grow louder, more intense beats vibrating the large space, and soldiers encircle the damp grounds, their deep voices humming together in familiar chants.
A challenge has been made and the dragon's gazes are hungry for violence.
Until one of the challengers admits defeat, this fight will not end. It may even result in death. No one is allowed to interfere regardless of the outcome.
The field smells of sweat, mud, and old blood, and Ruto stands in the center, a short blade in his hand as his only weapon. His breath remains steady despite the roaring flames in his pulse. His predatory eyes are transfixed on his opponent.
That bastard.
Across from him, Vagris adjusts to a fighting stance, axe clutched in his hand as his face twists in a loathsome snarl.
