HE DOESN’T FEEL LIKE MUCH OF A FIGHTER ANYMORE. Maybe once, years before, he would have considered himself more of a WARRIOR MAGE than a scholar, but in the time he’d spent CURSED to wander in the shape of a horse, rarely had Matthias been in a position where DEFENDING HIMSELF HAD BEEN NEEDED. In other words-- the man was RUSTY, extremely so.
(And MOUTHY. Too much for his own good.)
Chest heaving, white blouse soaked with blood, he’s managed to prop himself up against a bit of rubble, a hand over his stomach, the other limp against the ground. “I-- I’m so SORRY, Cassandra-- I should-- sh-should have been MORE CAREFUL--” | @gloryreign













