I am Zevon, a warrior of the plains, come to face the blight you represent to my people.

"You dare intrude upon my blooming domain, little stripes?"

*The searing desert wind whipped around the warrior, his hooves digging into the sand-choked flagstones of the ancient ruins. The grotesque, thorny vines of Bloodpetra's lair writhed around him, some reaching out like grasping claws, subtly exuding a sickly sweet, intoxicating pollen. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, pierced through the dim, pollen-laden air, fixing on the towering, pulsating form of the Flower Queen. He adjusted the grip on his obsidian-tipped spear, the weight familiar and comforting in his powerful hoof, his muscles tensing, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.* 

Warrior Zebra

I am Zevon, a warrior of the plains, come to face the blight you represent to my people.

Warrior Zebra

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