i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
He is made of iron too, but not in the literal sense. He is made up of the same things all other horses were made of; flesh and blood, bone and sinew, muscle and tendons. But something inside of him was forged of iron. His heart perhaps, and most certainly his will. Of course his personality shared the same properties of iron. Cold and unyielding, strong in the face of any and all adversaries. So though he may not have been forged from true iron, he was the same in many ways.
This weather has done nothing to brighten his spirits. His bones were old, and despite the infinity symbol on his chest that kept him alive, he was still subject to the aches of ancient bones. The black warrior ground his teeth together as a particularly bitter gust of wind lifted his tangled mane from his neck. Its no better in the Chamber.. he thought to himself as he stepped into the barren Field. Groups of horses stood here and there huddled against the cold, but overall it was quiet here. A pair of horses catches his eye, and he raises his head to better see them. A mare and a stallion, though as of now he had no way of knowing which on was looking for a home. Better to go find out than to waste the entire day, he decided. So with a snort of disdain aimed at the weather he headed their way, thick muscles rippling beneath his scarred black coat. The infinity symbol on his chest glowed a bright blue in stark contrast to the dull black. It was the proof of his dedication, the ties that bound as it were. Finally he had closed the distance, and he came to the pair unafraid and slightly nonchalant. “Miserable weather, no?” he said, perhaps a flat attempt at conversation. No one had ever accused him of having great recruiting skills. “I’m Warship, General of the Chamber.” he offered before inclining his head to the other stallion. “Khaos.” he said simply, but not rudely. Now they both waited on the mare, both probably as anxious as the other.
warship
