i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
The shitty weather was following him. Only days before (he assumed it had been days, but being a horse he had no real conception of time and its passage) he’d fled the comforts of home when it had become well, uncomfortable. Winter was knocking on the Chamber’s door, starting in the mountains but steadily making its way to his living area. Old, bitchy bones and winter didn’t often mix. So to the Field he had went, looking for warmth and recruits. Two birds one stone and all that jazz. Unfortunately, the poor weather had followed him here, as if to spite the old stallion. It was bullshit, but such is Warship’s luck.
The sky rumbled angrily, and Warship turned his face quickly upwards. Clouds piled on top of clouds, until the sky simply had no more room for them. Finally, one cloud broke, followed by the others, until he was enveloped in an absolute downpour. He could feel the electricity in the air, and instinct told him that shortly this open clearing would be a dangerous place to be. A snort leaves his nostrils, pissed now that not only will he be wet, but surely the weather will frighten off anyone he might had tried to recruit. But as he’s trotting towards the forest where he’d planned to ride out the storm, a lank figure catches his eye. The other stallion is standing rock-like in the heart of the storm, ears pinned flat and tail hunched. Warship thinks for a moment, gritting his teeth for a moment before heading over, his own face as sour as the sky. On approach he notices not one ear pinned, not two, but four. Odd he supposed, but who wasn‘t odd in Beqanna these days? “Why in the ever loving hell are you standing here? Only an idiot would stand in the middle of this shit, and you don’t look like any other idiot I’ve known.” he says, his voice loud to reach over the howling of the wind and the clashing of the thunder. “Warship, Chamber army. Care to get out of this storm?” he asks hopefully, already leaning in that general direction. Storms and old men just didn’t mix.
warship
