Firefly Glen I'm sorry if I hurt you, I'm sorry if it got that bad

His grip on Yakwahe was a stubborn one, and the persistent blur of his eyes and flying of snow everywhere made the pale sire all-the-more desperate to cling onto the bear in case he'd lost him. The large beast reared up again and flailed its arms, once again managing to knock Ignis face-first into the crimson-painted white. A frustrated snarl rose through his chest as he snapped at the air in an attempt to cling to the bear again, but the boar was quick to shift his weight and knock the phoenix backward again as he hurdled for an exit past him. He was escaping.

"Motherfucker-!" The moment he knew he became outnumbered was the moment he ran, but Azon was not satisfied with such a result -- after spilling the blood of his comrades, the monster ran before reaping what he sowed -- he needed to die. Ignis, out of pure impulse (and stupidity, because he's really out here trying to have a rematch with a bear) stumbled to his feet to chase after until gravity soon came to humble him by making Azon buckle underneath his own weight. Everything had happened so fast -- and by so much. So when the adrenaline finally wore off to unmask the severe pain caused by his head wound, the whole world felt like it was spinning. 

Azoniol groaned in pain and nausea while forcing himself to sit upright. The concussion made everything far too painful to process at once, and the voices of many had been blocked out in his daze as a result. His vision, however, returned to greet the phoenix with an exhibit of morbidity. The blur of brown that had been snapped in two -- it was Desdemona. The woman he had met not too long ago near moonspear, and it felt just like yesterday that she'd descended from those heights to greet him. Next, there lied Amelia. For the few seconds that they'd met before the following events, a bright, optimistic aura surrounded the fae and was soon stripped away by the hand of the devil himself -- ruthlessly torn apart, almost sadistically, and left to die like roadkill on asphalt. Pain was the only thing he saw in the she-wolf who desperately clung to the last strings of her life in the arms of another....

His home away from hell became an extension of it within a matter of minutes -- and Ignis felt silent, angry tears begin to stream down his lusterless eyes. That is until a familiar voice rang in the distance -- one that stood out from all the noise and made his heart jump in disbelief. Was that....

"Keres?...." The prince's head nearly snapped to meet the silver valkyrie, and he found himself launching to his feet upon seeing her. She too, like the others, had been chewed and mangled into a flurry of pain, but she was moving. The limp figure he'd seen resting beside the tree was not dead like he'd originally thought, and a softness that had been stolen from his eyes during the attack come flooding back as a wave of relief washed over Ignis. "Holy...Holy fucking shit, you're alive!" He exclaimed while rushing over to his mentor, and attempting to push his head underneath her own to help the injured Valkyrie balance. "It's fine, the...this is fine. We can find a medic and get you fixed up with the others who are in--who are injured too. Everything will be okay, we...." Too much blood rose to his already damaged head as soon as he stood up -- and gravity once again punished Ignis for his defiance. Eyes fluttered closed as he fell -- and drifted off into the snow.....

Nah, he's not dead.

But he is pretty fucked up.

So now it's nap time....