Gregos

The masked man felt a strong tug on the back of his robe and it tightened around his neck, strangling him. 

Valderik dragged him carelessly by the hood to where his aella lay. There were no wounds on its body and the plants holding it down weren't hurting it either.

He heaved a sigh of relief that it had only passed out and reached down to stroke his mount's muzzle lovingly. 

Remembering that the scum that had left it in this state was still in his hands, he yanked harder on the hood and lifted him off the ground. 

The masked man, after losing so much blood, felt dizzy. When the general forced him to his feet, his legs felt weak and he couldn't keep his balance.

The tunic was choking him and the air was not entering his lungs. He tried to put his hands to his neck, but they were handcuffed behind his back. 

Strange sounds came from his mouth as he struggled to free himself.