Warrior is indicative of Frink’s interest in themes of masculinity, spirituality, war, and fragility; issues she was familiar with thanks to her childhood in a military family. The devastation of the plane crashes Frink witnessed during the Second World War can be seen in the burnt appearance of her figures, as they seem almost calcified in ash - an impression Bryan Roberston has termed the sculptures ‘faintly ominous, acrid presence’. There is certainly a sickness that merges with strength in Frinks figures. Her interest in both the ‘strong and powerful’ and the ‘fugitive’ elements of a male nude, and in the merging of the invulnerable and vulnerable, can be noted in the figure's shield, raised in a defensive pose, in contrast to the left arm, which is outstretched and curious. The warrior stands tall and resolute, but its fractured form (created through Frinks heavy texturing) suggests otherwise. This is a masculinised figure but any unique identity is not present, and as one of six almost identical pieces gives the impression of a universally understandable ‘warrior’ figure. This notion of homogeneity also chimes with Warriors demonstration of the same overlapping of animal and human as the works of Frinks tutor Bernard Meadows, who used animal forms as conduits for human emotional states. Viewers might note that Frink has formed the legs of her Cock (1961) in the same way as the legs of her warrior. Like Meadows, Frink was associated with the ‘Geometry of Fear’ sculptors, and despite the changes of the art scene the 1960s bought continued to explore the urgent existential questions that the war had prompted.