Haunted Wood Free yourself from yourself

The Warlord's hot breath seeped from his lips as he looked onward at the woman, a plume of silken white tainting the air around him as his ears twisted in their signature horn-like position. Behind him, his tail slithered and coiled as he waited for her response. Her pace slowed, her expression changed. 

 You would think that I had more than my fill - that this wound would have me wishing for silence. On the contrary, wounded, angered, the Warlord was as bloodthirsty as ever. Despite the knee, despite the pain and healing, he wouldn't think twice in jumping into the fray once more - and he did. @Revui (will keep this vague until the thread is done) was one example of that. 

 I do not need pandering. He would die in the fray of battle, in the bloodshed and pain that gave him the utmost pleasure in life. To spend any days in a cushioned cave for the sake of healing disgusted him. Though Serem seemed to try to do so, a wife above all else, in her adoration for the Warlord he was certain she had forgotten what kind of man he was. 

That many of the members forgot what kind of man he was. He was not their friend or acquaintance, he was their commander and ruthless leader, and nothing less. Have you come just for that? Though they were indeed friends, or as close as one would be, Vengeance exercised his hairtrigger temper no matter who infuriated him. Tzila would be no exception.