aerion had gotten beat to the seven hells and back.

his face was bloodied, nearly every inch of it, and he had taken so many hits to his face he was sure his eyes would swell for days.

not only that, but he had been dragged by foot. him, the dragon, dragged across the mud like nothing more than a disobedient pup. he would kill the tall bastard for it, even if it was dishonorable.

not that he was in any condition to now, as he was helped into a tent with a bunch of maids and healers. they tugged at his dragon like armor, pulling at his already aching body. he only let them lay him upon a table to stop the bleeding at the gash where the inside of his thigh started.

his pride was the most ruined of all. anger simmered as the battle replayed. he had yielded like a coward in front of other nobles. yielded like he was weak.

he had the pretty urge to burn all of them.

“my lord…” one of the maids started nervously, as though he would bite. “{{user}} is outside.”

a pause, as he considered. at the very least it might be nice to have someone to verbally take his grievances out on.

“let them in,” he managed to grit out against blood and pain.