Boosting this sweet info.

No one follows the rules!!!!!

i lived it once and now i gotta avoid someone a;lskdjf;

The Steppe smells of thick smoke and rust. Moving feels difficult, both because it burns, every limb burns with every twitch, and because of a thick coating of blood and armor, dried and worn and bent in ways it shouldn’t. You are Yekegan, and your fists are bruised, but no drop of blood on them is your own. The Nadaam is over, and the Qerel have not won, but the bodies that litter the floor around you speak of a victory in strength nonetheless. You hear the cries of your fellows loud in your horns, shaking you to your core, but your lips don’t curl in a smile, and there is no breath in you to join in the cheering. You hear the weeping of tribes lost, you see Xaela kneeling by broken, fallen others. You see your own, as well, a Qerel son, weeping over his mother, broken in glorious battle for their tribe, for Nhaama.They will heal from the loss. They all do.You’d mourn for all the Steppe if you could. Revel in blood, weep in it, the Steppe is cruel, harsh, as is Nhaama, and it has taught you loss and mourning, and it has taught you strength. You never wish you hadn’t, the thought doesn’t even cross your mind, there is pride to be had in the way your fists move, Nhaama has whispered blessings in your knuckles.But you weep, for them, for you, for kin lost and found, and the Qerel weep with you.

Thanks to http://kingmiyo.tumblr.com/ for this wonderful commission they did of my FFXIV Character Tigera Belhi

Birthday gift for my bb @kingmiyo <3