Thal hit the ground with a grunt and rolled for several more malms across the mud. He came to rest halfway in the shallow water of the stream, and the water stained almost instantly with blood. For several seconds he just blinked at reflections of rocks above him in the ripples and the weird, wet, empty sensation across his chest. Then he grimaced, rolling onto his back and pushing himself up in the mud. The first thing he noticed was his mask lay a good malm away from him, face up in the mud, apparently having been jostled free in the combat. Then he looked down and immediately regretted it.
"... okay, we're just gonna pretend that isn't there," he muttered to himself, shoving the gory image into one corner of his mind. "I guess maybe I should be thankful." With another grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. His left arm felt weaker than the other but impossibly functioning, and as he stood he called out to the Amal'jaa, "How about we call this a truce?"
"... okay, we're just gonna pretend that isn't there," he muttered to himself, shoving the gory image into one corner of his mind. "I guess maybe I should be thankful." With another grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. His left arm felt weaker than the other but impossibly functioning, and as he stood he called out to the Amal'jaa, "How about we call this a truce?"
![[Image: AntiThalSig.png]](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/179079766/AntiThalSig.png)
"Song dogs barking at the break of dawn, lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm; and these streets, quiet as a sleeping army, send their battered dreams to heaven."
Hipparion Tribe (Sagolii)Â - Â Antimony Jhanhi's Wiki
