Heron Lake Plateau [m] Got death on his breath, halitosis

This image I have in my head of what I want this to look like in the end reminds me of a joke about ground beef…

It was odd, though not entirely surprising, that Reina had not once stirred during their scuffle. Not once did she crack an eye, lift her head, move an inch beyond the deep, but slow rise and fall of her chest. How he had a chance to see such movement was beyond him at this point. The two males had clashed and parried, both giving and receiving wounds, some more devastating than others on his end of things. 

Ruin had felt the defeat coming as he had known that someday he would find his bride, his promised, again.

Unfortunately for him, he would not be bringing his bride home to reign over the coveted Rhodesian territory. How could he? For all four limbs have succumbed to their injuries, rendering them immobile. Useless.

It was fitting, he supposed. Every limb had been used, in some form or another, to beat down his beauty into submission. At least his fifth limb remained untouched, so there was some small miracle that came out of this fight. 

His molten gaze found the man as he laid in a pool of his own blood, an odd smile forming on his lips. He started to laugh, the longer he did so, the louder and crazier it became.