[center][img]http://data.whicdn.com/images/147991305/superthumb.jpg[/img][/center]
[center][h1][color=red]Christopher Francis[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][color=silver][hr]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕕, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟  / /  ~𝟙𝟟𝟛𝟝 [hr][/color][/center]

[h3][color=red][b][i]Holy Hell[/i][/b][/color][/h3]

Those were Chris's only thoughts as everything happened in a blur, like a massive shock wave rippling through his own perception. First he was whipped back to the earth, and then barraged by a bombardment of red light. The sheer physical power of the lasers had pierced his scales with every blow, and as a result the crater he laid in was stained deep in crimson. His own body was trimmed with streams of blood from every wound. The pain still lingered even after the dragon recovered his thoughts. His whole body was throbbing in pain.

The draconic arbiter groaned as he began to stumble back to his feet. He had a bit of a limp, not from the injury itself, but rather from the pain the injuries had accumulated. The birds were mere fodder, yet the serpent's firepower was enough to tear his hide asunder. How was he supposed to get close to it like that? Is there a cool down for its laser? How could he help his comrades in his current state. His thoughts were broken when his eyes caught the sight of the metal orb being sent towards the serpent. 

It didn't matter who threw it, what it will do, or if it may be some benefit to the opponent. Chris figured in that short time frame that the serpent would be distracted by it once it gets close enough. If he gets into a stance, and flies up with whatever strength he has left in him...

Chris quickly sprang to his feet and got into a stance. His body low, ready to push off the ground in an instant. His wings were spread and flexed, ready to soar again despite their injuries. His left eye was closed as he was still trying to power through the throbbing pain. As soon as the snake construct would turn its back, Chris planned to tear it in two.