The blood wouldn't wash away, as if to say he is outmatched, and will always be outmatched. Stains of dark red blood had covered his entire chest area. An unimaginable pain ensued which can only be described as punishment from god himself. Desperate for shelter he had eventually found a safe haven to retreat to. Through dark murky mazes of thick jungle, he had met trees providing minimal shade that shot holes of sunlight through the bare branches that no longer owned foliage. Underneath, a river lie that streamed peacefully through the jungle. The rivers height that the fallen nature god had rested above was just deep enough to reveal his distorted reflection, along with the fish that swam freely below him. If one could call the reflection he saw his own. For one could not see his complexion, but only that of a mythical skull that the god wore in place of which used to be an enthusiastic outgoing child. He had not seen his own face since then, when his tribe was murdered for reasons still unknown to the poor man. "Man", it was something he had not been referred to often, the pronouns he possessed according to others consisted of either "Monster", or "Mighty One". How he wished the day would soon come where he could see his own self again, and not a monster. That the wretched curse that had been placed from the kidnapping members of his now current chaser's tribe had placed unto him. The only part of himself he could see are his previously soft, contempt eyes, which now glow sky blue. They pierce through the eye sockets of the skull he sports, they could paralyze and destroy any who stared unto them, except his opponent from which he flees from with the same terror his victims must have felt before being killed in the name of the gods.

A cry could be heard throughout the jungle, scaring flocks of birds to and fro uncertain of which direction to retreat from the repeating cry. It had stirred again the heart of the Nature god who's named sparked from legends was claimed as Khaimera, a name that had stricken fear into foes, is now stricken in fear himself as the sound of stone clangs in the rhythm of a calling Khaimera could only recall, as his mothers she had given as he played with the other children, with her wooden spoon and bowl on his last meal he would ever have with her. The clangs enraged him, but petrified him at the same time as he is well aware that the one who wields these callings lusts for his blood, and is the one responsible for his mother's slaughter. But the footsteps and clangs had stopped, and for a moment the jungle fell silent. Tension shot through Khaimera's muscles. Though the relief of silence and tension were short lived and sparked the nature gods heart beat to its peak, as it was soon again filled with satisfied laughter. Laughter that one could only imagine that ensues when a predator has finally caught fleeing prey after intense battle. The warrior had finally emerged from the darkness of the jungle, the calling of the nature god's death could be heard in his own brain, a voice that chanted that the warrior will relieve him of his curse, for the cost of the nature god's own life. Khaimera glared at the figure before him which stood across the river. The battleground was set in a perfect setting for the victor to exclaim to future generations, of how the battle of the two greatest fighters known to mankind had ended.

The two locked eyes, trying to read both mind and emotions of the other. The currently dominant opponent took the form of a rhinoceros who stood on two feet, large hands, both possessing only 3 fingers, which clutched 2 war hammers the monster dueled. The hammers reflected through the sunlight patching's that he currently stood under with tribal writings, old and worn from repeated use, but still shined with the passion of battle the warrior had yearned for. He wears an armored belt with draped cloth lines front and back. He gazes once more, the warrior grows excited to see his prey slowly suffering before him, and begins to chant once more, smashing both hammers together, each time they collide they grow brighter. The sheer force of impact causing a deafening stun, and a massive headache for Khaimera. The hammers glowing with each thud, until they simmered, the temperature of the whole area had sky rocketed, along with the legendary warrior's blood lust. He could not contain himself any longer, being one who seeks forgiveness from the gods himself, he promised to make the nature gods death swift. He charged, as a rhinoceros would in a stampede. Khaimera was in no condition to fight and knew his options were to run, or relieve himself of the curse that has ruined his entire life. Khaimera assured his brains natural instinct of jumping to his feet to ease itself, this is what must be done. He knows he has created an endless cycle of hatred that breeds upon hatred with many factions and entities. He lay his head in defeat, staring at his reflection once more, as the heat of the searing hot axes calculated the warriors distance from himself. But the stampede had coincided into a halt. The entire battlefields vibe had been diminished into a death pit. Followed by maniacal laughter of which can only be described of as a death sentence in female form.