imagine you are a warhorse belonging to a minor lord who is renowned for his ability to tame and ride and heal horses. but you are his first horse he has had since he was a boy, and you have borne him and knights and maidens and princes across miles and miles without stopping to rest.
and you are an old horse. and yet, this lord loves you so much that he insists you stay alive. when parts of you rot he takes the corpses of younger, stronger horses and uses dark magic to comvine them to you. he makes you stronger, more dangerous, and yet never quite heals you perfectly, so you wheeze and you stomp heavy and yet rhis lord loves you so much he will do anything to keep you alive. and yesterday, you collapsed. today, you find yourself awake as he chants above you, bringing you back. this happened to my good friend alex's car