Skirmish
It was quiet in the field Peter looked out on. He was still wondering where Susan was but he had to focus on the army across from his own. Edmund was up in the cliffs, Lucy with him. Still, it would make him feel better if he knew where his other sister was as well.
There was a roar and suddenly the ground was shaking, hoofs and feet pounding into the dirt so hard that it was like thunder in his ears. The metal of his helm just made it resound in his head as his own horse charged forward. As he gripped his sword tightly, pulling it from the sheath to soon be swallowed up by the sounds of battle around him.
Metal ringing on metal as swords clashed. Spears whisteling through the air. Stone dropping from the sky to crush bone a moment later. Fire falling from the cliff, lighting up the grass of the field.
A minotaur wrapped in flames, screaming as it went for a centaur, axe raised.
There was a leopard at his side once, for a flicker of a second and then it was on it's distant snow cousin. Claws digging into flesh, teeth snapping at bone and muscle.
And it went on, and on.
Even when his horse fell. When Edmund cut the White Witch's wand in the gorge. As Aslan turned the stone warriors back to life to bare fangs at the enemy, to eventually wrap his jaws around the snow queen's throat.
Then the fighting died down, the sounds of battle drowning in silence.