Rohan

The drums of war. The beat of hooves, the metallic clanck of the brestplate clamoring against my hide as I ran, the smell of blood, the tonges of fire that lapped at my feet, the edge of the wipp, the yell of my rider and master, the screems of my brethren as they fell, the tase of my own blood as the bit cut into my mouth…
I ran still faster.