i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell

For some, the sun is a semblance of all things good, all things warm, all things bright.

For the old general, it is nothing more than a pain in his eyeballs and something to mark the passage of days. Days that drag one into the other, with nothing to occupy his time other than memories of days gone long by.

His arrival to the meadow is slow and without fanfare. The sun washes over his blue-black hide, drawing a scowl to his face and a squint from his golden, lupine eyes. He much prefers the shadows, but nothing hides there anymore. What faces are to be found are scattered here in the meadow, and for once, he finds himself seeking out companionship.

He spots her immediately. Like a dark stain on a brightly painted canvas, her inky black coat is at odds with the meadow around her. He feels a pull towards her. Perhaps she's a face he has known once before, perhaps their paths had crossed. Whatever the case may be, he approaches easily. With a flare of his nostrils he winds her, the wolf senses giving him a deeper insight into her origins if nothing else. She smells of shadows, of damp forests and rocky outlooks. She smells of pine and cedar, a richness that can only be from one place. "You're from the Chamber." he says by way of greeting, his voice is rough from lack of use. "Warship." He doesn't give former titles or lineage. Chances are she doesn't know him, anyways.

warship

i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell

He has lost many things in his too-long life, and only cared to remember a few of them. The Chamber had always taken and taken and taken, leaving little room in his chest for anything else. And truthfully, he had given himself over willingly to her, that dark and demanding mistress. True, there had been those he supposed were friends, a couple he supposed were lovers, but mostly, it was just duty. That duty is mostly what he remembers now, but even that memory is shrouded in cobwebs and dust, like any other relic forgotten over time. A museum piece to be admired and nothing more.

He couldn't help the grin that creeps across his mouth as she complained about the cold. Weather complaints were something the elderly often did, and they seemed to be among those ancient ranks. "Oddly enough, I never visited the Tundra. I was in the jungle for a time though, and I think I'd take my chances with the Tundra snow." he said with the barest hint of a chuckle. How odd, he thinks to himself. How odd it is to conversate with another about meaningless things, to laze about with no end game in sight. No end game, no tasks, no...nothing. No duty waiting, no kingdom poised to sink her claws into his very chest and demand from him. How very odd, and how very unlike Warship.

Her question gave him pause, but only a moment of it. He had heard rumors, of course. Even on the outskirts, one still hears, especially one with exceptional hearing such as himself. "Hmmm...let's just say, rumors brought me out. Tricky little things, slipping off tongues and into ears. Rumors that The Chamber isn't as dead as previously thought..." His voice tailed off, replaced by a flash of sharp canines and a gleam of golden eyes.

warship