Lucifer of the Dunes

And my dice aren't weighted.

A deep groan escaped Lucifer when Corvette spoke. His head lowered and he was forced to pull in a deep breath, trying to contain the anger internally enough at the fact he was in pain. He was not mad at her, but one's voice could be conveyed the wrong way. “Please… come join me.” He managed, shifting his frame slowly to face Corvette. He no longer stood with his back to her. Under the faint light of the moon, one could see the way his shoulder was not in place and how sweat lathered his flanks, neck, behind his eyes, and between his back legs. Under the silver rays, Corvette might be able to see how his black frame was slick with sweat from front to back, even if it made him look like a wreck.

“I am sorry.” He did not apologize often, but right now seemed as good of a time as any to get it out. Every word he had spoken this far though was with pain lacing the words. He had tried to hide it from her, but he wasn't able to do it for much longer. He wasn't able to do it, but he tried anyway. That was why he shifted back a step, giving her more space to come down if she wished while also not hurting himself more.

Holding in another sound of pain, Lucifer rocked his shoulder and closed his eyes. He was trying to ease the tension, but holding it still was not even stopping the throbbing pain. Moving made it worse, but something had to work. WIth the nature of it and his weight held mostly on his front, he was doomed either way in the grand scheme of things. Lowering his head to hide the lone tear that trickled when the pain turned into a branding iron hot bite, Lucifer held his chin just barely in the water.

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