The cold night wind blew past Eyther's ears as the warm iron dripped from his walking husk. After all, that's all that he felt that he was. Nevertheless, he carried on as he did, his feet trudging through the woods, the cold of the night ignorant to his existence, all the while he laughed as his thoughts comforted him. Then, as he just barely broke through the wall of the forest, he saw lights, far beyond a stone wall that lay about fifty yards from where Eyther presently stood. His laughter ceased, and the wicked smile that had written itself so neatly upon his lips had erased itself. He had to remove whatever evidence he could of his previous trials, but he couldn't approach a home of such a stature looking as he did. "I'd be better suited with the soil." he thought. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and a wicked smile began to garnish his mandible, widening as though a macabre extract of the Cheshire Cat, for he had so effortlessly thought of a way to approach the homestead without frightening the residence. He then immediately dropped to the ground and began rolling around, collecting as much dirt on the still wet iron as he could. When he next stood, there was not a single spot of crimson gleam to be found. With that, he stood and stepped out from the woods to draw attention from the residence of the family inside, to hopefully be rid of strong stench that would soon haunt his eternity.