His eyes squint with the light of daybreak. The smell of dew and gunpowder drifts through the camp as they rise to their mounts. The General knows that the time has come. He looks at his men; tattered, torn, proud and scared. They know.
They weren’t supposed to win the Battles of Austin, or Lincoln. The Cowboy invasion was supposed to be too strong… Pride flows through their veins, but ghosts of the old man from Manhattan and other failed battles haunt them. It’s a new day – a new chance to plant their flag.
He lights his cigar. He points to a man of metal to lead the infantry – they are determined and well-armed. He peers at the flank – they are strong – and they feed off of the two most feared warriors ever to enter the field of battle.
In the distance he can hear a storm coming. His arm goes up - They are ONE.
They weren’t supposed to win the Battles of Austin, or Lincoln. The Cowboy invasion was supposed to be too strong… Pride flows through their veins, but ghosts of the old man from Manhattan and other failed battles haunt them. It’s a new day – a new chance to plant their flag.
He lights his cigar. He points to a man of metal to lead the infantry – they are determined and well-armed. He peers at the flank – they are strong – and they feed off of the two most feared warriors ever to enter the field of battle.
In the distance he can hear a storm coming. His arm goes up - They are ONE.
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