Lucifer of the Dunes

You're playing my game now.

For the first time in a long time, Lucifer stood on the edge of his home. Flame bright eyes looked out over the neighboring territory. He noticed the retained marks of the fight he had with Nyimara on the stone. Seeing was believing, and it was needed in this moment. Looking at the battlefield after taking time to recuperate, Lucifer let out a deep breath. He needed to see it, to make himself believe one simple fact. It was mind boggling to the tar infested stallion, but it was the truth. He had won, protected his herd, and for the first time since Tefnut… Lucifer lost nothing in the face of Nyimara.

Turning away from the battlefield, the shadow of a man limped onwards. Holding his jaw tight, Lucifer held in the sounds of pain that bubbled in his throat. His once bright eyes had started to dim as he walked away from the battleground. Nyimara had done something to him. His spirits weren't broken, but his left side now held worse injuries than it had previously. He could still work with his bad back leg, but now he was split fifty-fifty. His right side might be covered in scars, but it didn't have a ruined tendon that wouldn't fully heal due to the sands. It didn't have the dislocated shoulder, one Lucifer would live the rest of his life with unless he took one hell of a kick to it soon.

Hanging his head at wither level, the black beast slowly prowled forward under the morning sun. His ears were perked forward, but the only word to describe him right now was pain fueled laziness. Every step ached deep into his bones and had his teeth clenching. He fought hard, had taken a wound, but it wasn't just a wound anymore. He had survived infection and a useless back leg. Now though… he knew that with most of his weight on his front end, he would be coyote food unless he found someone that could step up for him. He hadn't envisioned an early step down, but now it might be the only choice he had.

Finding a shaded spot at the border of the Hills, Lucifer laid down. Out at the edge of his territory, the black male just laid down and slabbed out on his side. Heaving a groaning breath, Lucifer closed his eyes and let the shade cool the hot sun. For now, he vanished to a safe place away from anyone. He didn't need his herd knowing they were losing their protector. It was time he did something drastic, but he would wait until he could walk without his body fighting every step he took.

Stallion ─ 18.0 hands ─ Black ─ Demon King of The Dunes