A/N: Because going from Epic to Heroic Fantasy means some Reality has to Ensue.
Laks coughed out dust and bits of rock grains, arm still aching where Angada had plucked him up bodily and made one of his incredible vanara flying jumps. “Are we-?”
“Alive? Some of us,” the vanara prince said breathlessly. “Stupid, stupid – we knew they still had magic-workers amongst the army, but we were looking for illusions…. Uncle!”
“Sound off by war-bands!” King Sugriva’s cry came through the dust. “Find the living and the injured! And kill these damn rakshasas!”
“Sounds like he’s fine,” Laks smirked, getting himself to his feet; a little less than steady, Hanuman’s footsteps as he danced with his foe still made the world wobble.
So his arm ached. After a fight like this had been, everyone ached. And the rakshasas might have been just as shocked as they were by the sudden rock-fall, but they’d be back in the fray soon enough-
Above and to his right, a pile of rocks loomed.
Laks’ breath caught. “Rama! She was-”
Angada was already there, tearing loose rubble to fling it at oncoming enemies. “I hear breathing!”