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
