Rudy had followed the scent of a creature he had never seen nor hunted before.  He had been in the plains but now traveled to the forest where icicles hunt from tree’s making soft chiming sounds whenever the wind blew even a bit.  The forest floor was dry and ice lay on top of leaves that made it impossible to make any noise.  The sun was setting and shadows cast by trees and brushes littered the landscape, it was times like this Rudy was at the best for hunting.  Hid motley gray coat blended well with the shadows, and as long as Rudy moved slow and measured his time to the shifting of other shadows he could make himself hard to see. Occasionally a tree branch could no longer bear the weight of the ice and you would hear a soft crack as it broke from a branch for the icy stick to land on the frozen ground.  Further in he spotted what he had smelled.  It was kind of deer-like but definitely not a deer but Rudy had no other name to give the Okapi.  The stripes on the legs, the way the back angled, long neck, and well, it was all wrong.  Well, did meet need a name?  Faded scars could be seen in a variety of areas on the creature, proof of a long life of winning fights.  However age and injuries had slowed the creature down, it could surely still put up a fight and was worthy of caution, but not as dangerous as one in its prime. Rudy had waited patiently until the creature was less on its guard, the shadows darkening the landscape more.  When Rudy charged it started off as a chase but when the Okapi acknowledged it would not outrun the wolf it attempted to fight, hooves striking out but Rudy danced around them.  It was not a quick kill and more than once Rudy missed a vicious kick by a few hairs but he won.  Eventually, the old Okapi fell and lost the strength to get up. Rudy stood over his kill, panting out deep breaths of frost, pride swelling up as he imagined dragging the kill back to show off to the family.  He’d be sleeping a long time tomorrow.  He planned to of course eat some of it for himself before taking it home but even as he recovered his breath he heard ice crackling under other paws, and smelled the scent of coyotes.  It was a pack of three and they were observing him as surely as he looked over the situation.  Rudy was tired from his hunt, they were fresh and more of them. Rudy snarled viciously at the lot of them, standing tall with tail up high aiming first to go for showing off and hoping they would just leave.  He was young but still a wolf!  They didn’t come in right away, clearly considering the warning.  After a moment one came in with the intent to snap at his haunches.  One coyote Rudy could handle!  He spun around and lunged in only to meet air as the coyote leaped away.  When Rudy’s back had turned around though he saw another coyote heading towards it.   Rudy saw the bad situation as the coyotes proved they could work as a team.  Just defending wouldn’t work well.  Rudy charged one of the coyotes and even as it jogged off Rudy grabbed its tail for a harsh bite, the animal spun around and scored a bite on its neck.    Behind him one of the coyotes was going for his kill, the other was coming to back up its friend.  Rudy ran at it, aiming again to be confident and vicious enough to chase them away.  Even as the coyote turned to run away Rudy scored a slash on its haunches.  Unknown to Rudy his hawk Reddy left at this point, flying off to find help.  It could have helped itself but had determined alone he might not be enough aid. He jumped away in time as the one behind going for his legs and charged the one that was near his kill.  It loped off but one of the two coyotes who were fighting came in towards the side and the other from behind.  They worked well as a team and even as the one clipped his leg with a paw the other bite at his neck.  Fortunately neither were bad, his scruff was thick and the claws did little damage.  Still, he let out a bark in surprise.  Things quickly turned worse.  The third coyote joined in.  Rudy couldn’t avoid them all!  Rudy got in a good snapping bite at a muzzle of one but felt another bite his back leg and the first had risen up, teeth aiming for a better bite into his neck and claws slashing across his face. Blood was leaking into his eye to cloud vision on the one side. He shrieked out in admitted fear and need for help but, he was farther away from his pack.  Things didn’t look good. "Rudyard"

The paths along the borders of Hallowed land were fast becoming familiar beneath his paws from his frequent patrols. Despite his still recovering status from his two encounters with the unnatural winter wasteland predators, Artorias could not allow himself to get lax in his training. He had to prove to his mother that he was putting all his effort into being the greatest warrior he could be and that he was worthy of carrying their family name. Plus, if any more of those massive predators were lurking around, they had to be ready at a moment's notice. The saber-toothed cats had gotten far too close to the castle for comfort. He was not going to allow that to happen again...

Dense snow and compacted ice crunched beneath his paws while Artorias roamed up near the northern border. Overhead, Corbin flew in graceful swoops and circles, scanning the plains from above. He was thankful that today was a nicer day; no snow was falling, and although the setting sun was still obscured by a dense blanket of heavy clouds it was brighter than days of late. It was still freezing cold, but a gentle breeze had replaced the blizzard-like gales that screamed across the lands from the north. He would have to be getting home soon before his parents began to worry about him again. Art glanced up and peered north, through the thicket of trees that made up the fruit groves at the edge of Auster. He wondered how Boreas was fairing their second winter, how the Armada was holding up... He hoped everyone was safe and weathering the storm all right.

No sooner had his hopes of safety for their family friends left his mind, he heard the screech of a hawk from overhead, panicked and shrill. Artorias snapped his head up to spot a familiar red-tailed hawk making a beeline for the castle. Corbin swooped off to the left and intercepted the hawk midair, gliding beside it for a moment before diving down to Artorias in a hurry. ”Master Artorias! Master Rudyard is under attack in the grove!" he cried out once he came within earshot.

"What?!" Artorias snapped. A desperate cry of terror came from deeper within the wildberry grove then, catching the young male's attention and freezing his blood cold in his veins. Rudy...! Paws kicked up snow as Artorias sprinted past the border and into the snow-covered grove. He ducked and wove his way past icicle-laden branches, shattering patches of ice wherever his paws fell, ignoring the twinge in his hind leg as he ran full-tilt in the direction he'd heard Rudy. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he thought it might break his ribs. Horrific thoughts of what might be happening to his brother twisted his stomach and urged him on faster, faster! Artorias smelled them before he saw them. Rudy's unmistakable scent tainted with the metallic smell of blood and the rank odor of... Coyotes... he realized, gritting his teeth and barreling towards the sound of snarls and scuffling dead ahead. Even before he emerged upon the battlefield, the young wolf was already drawing his sword from its sheath, ready to hurl himself into hell once more.

A vicious snarl the likes of which he'd never made before erupted from deep within him as Artorias leapt over a rock and burst into clearing where Rudy had made his kill. The blue-furred wolf practically flew through the air towards the scavengers dancing around Rudy, seeing the startled look in one's eyes right before he brought his sword down into the coyote's skull. The solid crack it made resounded around the trees, and although the coyote did not go down right away, it did stun the small predator enough for Art to start a second strike, spinning to bring the blade up into the side of its head with another crack that sent the coyote toppling head over heels across the ice, drops of blood falling from its split scalp. He growled and lunged for a second coyote, but the element of surprise had been lost, and the smaller canine leaped back to avoid a blow from his sword. Artorias positioned himself between the coyote and his brother, paws planted firmly and body held low, ready to spring back into action while he stared the animal down.

"Stay behind me," he instructed Rudy without tearing his gaze from the coyote which had once again tried to start circling the wolves. He knew Rudy was a decent fighter, but right now his brother was hurt, and his only objective right now was to protect him. The first coyote he'd clobbered had stumbled back to its feet, blood dripping from the gash on the side of its head, but looking more angry than anything. It ran straight for Artorias again, leaping at the wolf with snapping jaws aimed for his neck. Artorias caught sight of the coyote from the corner of his eye and pirouetted in place, dodging the coyote's attack while simultaneously bringing his sword into the back of the coyote's head for another solid hit.

The coyote collapsed in a heap with a pained yelp, and just as Art raised his sword for another blow, a searing pain caught him in his hind leg. He growled in response, peering back to see the second coyote biting at his injured leg. While it stung, it was nothing compared to the dire wolf's bite, and Artorias quickly jerked his leg forward, the sudden momentum pulling the coyote off its paws as it could not keep its footing on the icy ground, sliding across the ice and right into range of Artorias' sword, which came down in a powerful blow that sent the coyote tumbling across the ground like he'd hit a home run. He shifted his weight back and forth between his paws, keeping his body in motion, ready to react to the next move the coyotes made and counting on Rudy to watch his back for him.

"Speech" | Thoughts | ”Corbin"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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Rudy somehow felt as if he should have just known Art would end up there.  What coincidence had managed to have Art close to him over all their land to patrol at this moment he couldn’t imagine.  Sure, his brother patrolled but they had a large area to patrol and this was past the boundary by a ways also.  Still, it was Art and his brother would never let him down, so even fate had decided to make sure it didn’t happen.   Rudy put his rump so it faced his brothers, moving to make sure Art was protected.  "Took you a while," said in jest, but for the levity of his words his face remained serious, focus really on the threat at hand.  Blood from his face had fallen over his eye so that the lid was shut which had him constantly turning his head about to keep up with where everyone was.  The leg was injured but he was able to put weight on it, however, it did slow down his movements and that was frustrating him.  The coyotes certainly would think getting to Art’s backside easier than the front right now.  If they could get around back it was an injured wolf they imagined picking off versus the young healthy angry one. The remaining coyote hesitated about rushing in now and eyeing the carcass again.  The opportunists thinking of going for the meal instead of the more dangerous prey.  One of the ones Art had given a good bashing to on the head was getting up, quite wobbly so that it was doubtful it would get far before collapsing, it was trying to get to the corpse.  It was badly injured, it was also desperate for food.  The spring should have been a time for lots of food to be hunted, but now it was icy and snowy with many animals hiding instead of out and about. “That’s mine you thief,” Rudy snarled back, “I’ll make you a pelt for one of my sisters!”  Yeah well, him or Art, one of them sure would.  No mangy coyote was stealing his hard work.  Big talk from Rudy hadn’t worked earlier but now the numbers had changed.  Instead of one wolf to three coyotes, it was two wolves and only one coyote. The coyote glanced from the food back to Rudy in a thoughtful manner.  There was a flecking of grey along its muzzle and a few faded pink scars along its body.  This coyote had seen had lived a long life and had the battle scars to prove his worth.  The pups didn’t want to let him take the meal freely?  That was fine it had been watching them fight the younger coyotes.  Packs with coyotes were tenuous things compared to the bonding of wolves.   The coyote moved towards the pair and proved its cleverness, it lunged as if to aim for Rudy but he fully expected the sword-wielding wolf to turn to defend.  It had seen how far out the sword could swing and at the speed Art swung it at.  It would attempt to make Art swing and miss then lunge in and out to try and get a fast bite in.  Rudy had turned to face his attacker, but couldn’t lunge in as it would interrupt Art’s swing radius, and defending Art’s back was every bit as important as offensive.  Letting Art be pure offensive made him that much more dangerous to the coyote. "Rudyard"

A snorting chuckle sound slipped from between Artorias' clenched jaws when Rudy commented on his tardiness to the fight. It was good to see his brother hadn't lost his spirit or bravado in between all that blood. With the mottled gray wolf at his back, Artorias felt much more confident facing off against the coyotes knowing they couldn't surround them now. The other two he had attacked seemed to also be grasping this concept, and the one he had injured severely started to limp back away from the fight. The second took a couple bold steps closer, but a deadly leer from fiery amber eyes and a rumbling snarl turned it away in a hurry. Art watched while the two retreated a short distance away, waiting for their third compatriot. Now the tides had turned, and the advantage the coyotes had was stripped away from them. Artorias turned his focus on the remaining coyote, the largest and oldest of the bunch, and locked gazes whenever it would glance at him, eyes moving between the two wolves.

Rudy's sudden shout caught Art's attention; he looked up just in time to see the bleeding coyote scrambling away from the mutilated body of some sort of prey animal. That was what this was all about, a scrap over a meal? He guessed it made sense; food was scarce with the extended winter and many an animal would be getting more and more desperate for a bite to eat. Even still, the dark-furred boy had to question whether it had been worth the trouble Rudy had gotten himself into. That would have to be a conversation for later though, once the fighting had ceased. For now, he fixed the last opponent with a lethal glare, daring him to make a move. The coyote was smart though, considering his options and odds. Artorias hoped it would be smart enough to turn tail and run. Unfortunately, it was not.

The coyote lunged in for Rudyard and Artorias reacted on reflex, lunging forward with sword blade timed for where the coyote would be. Only the coyote wasn't there, and he only ended up kicking up chunks of ice and snow while the smaller predator darted to the side, feinting to the side and lunging in at him. Too late to abort, Artorias knew he was getting bit. The only thing he could do now was decide what his reaction would be. The coyote's smaller fangs grabbed at his leg, making the wolf yelp from the sudden sting as the teeth bit into his flesh. Except Art didn't recoil from the attack, instead using his momentum in his missed swing to twist his body and use his superior weight and strength to drag the coyote by the jaws along with him. Like its compatriot, the older coyote was unable to keep its footing on the ice, and as soon as Artorias pulled, he was swept off his paws, dragged across his belly and lifted and slammed down on his back directly in front of the very angry wolf. He tried to scramble to his feet, but Artorias was faster, bringing his other paw down hard into the coyote's head and slamming his skull into the ground. The coyote was dazed for a moment, and before he could regain his consciousness, the larger wolf had brought his wooden sword down in a stabbing motion, pressing the dulled end of the weapon hard into the coyote's throat.

Artorias snarled and glared with rage down at the smaller canine as it coughed and sputtered while he crushed his trachea, tiny paws scratching desperately at the wooden blade to try and free itself. Art growled louder and pushed down harder, getting another choking wheeze from the coyote. He saw the primal fear in the coyote's eyes as death loomed imminent over him. This was it. Artorias could end this fight in one second if he pushed down any harder. The coyote's neck would surely snap beneath the weight of the wolf and he would be dead. It was what he deserved for daring to harm his brother. It would be justified.

...But Artorias didn't move. He stared down into the fearful creature's eyes, watching while he struggled just to stay alive. It would be so easy to simply kill the scavenger now, to let him choke to death or snap his neck like a twig. But something gnawed away at his resolve inside his heart. Maybe it was the way the coyote looked so pitiful flailing and fighting for his very life. Maybe it was the fact that he could feel his brother's eyes on him and it helped to quell some of the anger burning in his heart. Maybe it was his mother's words echoing in his head while he watched the dying animal... "With all battles, you need to weigh your options... Give your opponent every opportunity to submit or retreat..." Artorias knew he was the dominant predator in this fight; he could have killed all three of the coyotes easily with Rudyard at his back. But what separated him as a warrior from a mindless killer was his ability to show mercy. Did an animal just doing what it could to survive deserve death because it chose the wrong kill to plunder? Did a downtrodden soul deserve leniency for the damning crimes it had committed?

Just as the coyote's struggling was beginning to show signs of faltering, Artorias relented and removed his sword from the scavenger's throat. The coyote gasped and coughed as it struggled to refill its lungs—only to have the wind knocked out of it again when Art instead brought his sword into its stomach for good measure, knocking it a short distance away and making sure he stayed down. "Leave. Now," he ordered in a growl to the downed coyote, glancing to fix the other two with his steely gaze. "All of you. Get the hell out of my sight before I kill you all." This was his one show of mercy to the starving canines. If they chose to accept, he would not pursue them and let them go free to lick their wounds and find their own meals. If even one of them refused, he wouldn't stop swinging until the only sounds that came from them was the squishing of their broken bodies under his sword. The choice was theirs.

"Speech" | Thoughts | ”Corbin"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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Walk | "Talk" | think

His brother had most definitely been improving.  Rudyard watched with one eye shut as his brother easily bested the coyote.  Rudy would have assisted when he saw his brother get bit but Art was already finishing the coyote off a moment later.  Rudy glanced to the other two coyotes that were showing no sign of attacking even as he then looked back at Art with the sword pressed on the coyote's trachea.

The normal thing to do in Rudyard’s mind would be to finish off the thieves if they hadn’t been smart enough to run away in time.  Art clearly seemed to be considering it but suddenly let the coyote go, well, more like flung it away.  It was finished.  The two wolves could kill all the coyotes easily.  If any of them went near his brother or his meal Rudy would finish them off, even injured he was willing to bet he could take them on in their current state.  Ok, especially with Art there also.

The coyote for its part had seen death staring him in the face.  It lay where Art had tossed it, a wary eye on the wolf as it didn’t chase him.  The two coyotes he came with fled at Art’s command, leaving him behind.  The older coyote got up ran off a few strides before looking back at Art once there was some distance between them and the decision to flee clear.  A nod of respect and gratitude was offered to the wolf before it turned again to flee.  He’d have to look elsewhere for prey this night.

Rudyard turned his head, one eye bright watching Art, then head lowering in some guilt glancing to the leg, “How bad’s the bite?”  Once he knew it was fine he could show off the kill he’d made all by himself.  The only thing masking his excitement at the moment was his concern for his brother.  The threat was gone after all.  No way those coyotes were returning.  Rudy couldn’t open the one eye but it didn’t hurt enough to feel the eye itself had been hurt, just blood from above sliding down and clotting up on the shut eyelid.  The leg hurt also, but it worked.  

A moment later Rudy imagined mom seeing them coming back to the castle in their shape.  Why did he expect there might be a lecture coming soon?  

Artorias did not dare drop his guard until he had seen all three of the coyotes turn tail and run off through the trees. The eldest lingered behind for a bit, offering a gesture of gratitude, then leaving with its comrades. Art stayed on guard until the sounds of their paws on the snow had faded away and it was just him and Rudyard left in the clearing. A heavy sigh left the dark-furred boy while he slid his sword back into the scabbard, the stinging in his paw little more than a nagging thought at the back of his mind thanks to the adrenaline in his system. Rudy's question caught his attention, and Art glanced down at the red marks on his leg. A couple thin rivulets of fresh blood were dribbling down his ankle, but otherwise he was fine. The coyote's bite hadn't been able to do more than break the skin before he'd countered the attack. Rudy, however, looked dramatically worse for wear.

"It'll be fine," he remarked, coming closer to inspect his brother's wounds. A frown and furrowed brow took form on his face. "Damn, and I thought you were ugly before, Rudy..." he teased his brother, hoping to break some of the tension while he tended to him. "Stay still for a moment, okay?" Artorias leaned closer, placing some careful licks to his brother's bloody face to try and clean him up a little and maybe stop some of the blood. He wasn't a trained healer, but Gwyn had taught him some stuff about basic triage that could at least help him keep Rudy stable until they got him home and tended to by Lúta or one of the other healers. "We need to get you back home. How do you feel? Can you walk?" If he couldn't, Art would not hesitate to sling his brother over his back and carry him home if he had to. Another thought hit him, and Art fixed his dappled brother with a confused look. "Why were those coyotes trying to kill you anyway? What did you do to them?"

"Speech" | Thoughts | ”Corbin"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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Walk | "Talk" | think

Oh good, if Art was fine and they won then it was still a win.  Hearing Art was alright Rudy’s tail raised a bit to do a slow, albeit tired wag.  Then the insult came and Rudy gave a disdainful snort, “I’m handsome as can be, you may be a great fighter but you’re a terrible eye for what looks good clearly.” A pause though as he imagined, “how does it look?” His one eye rolled up fruitlessly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see the injury above but unable to not peer up all the same.

“I can walk.” That said taking a step to prove it, though with a grimace he determined it was more of a limp than a walk.  His gaze looked back to the Okapi.  He was feeling pretty good about his catch and was ready to point it out to Art when the question came up.  “What did I do to them?  C’mon Art, how’s it my fault?”  Being blamed already?

“Anyway, the thieves were trying to take my kill.” Rudy limped closer to the corpse, “look at this thing Art, I’ve never even seen one before.  Largest thing I’ve ever killed by a longshot, and it’ll feed several wolves.  Like actually helping the pack instead of just grabbing a meal for myself.”  Rudy glanced down and back at his own leg with a sigh then up at Art, “if I hadn’t been so tired I could have beat em all.” No way he’d be labeled as someone who could get whipped by a few coyotes.  “I guess I just didn’t count on how tired I was.  It was a long hunt.”  Pride mixed with guilt and foolishness mixed with achievement.  “Uhm, I wish I’d brought something to drag it back on.” That said with a sly glance given to Art, brows raising up with that perfected playful pleading look.  One of his moms could tell him what the strange creature was.

Rudy's retort got a snicker and a dry grin from Art, who was glad to see that at least his brother's sense of humor wasn't injured too. But then came the serious, slightly worried question from his brother about the condition of his face. Artorias glanced up at the claw slashes across his brow currently leaking blood down his muzzle. They looked pretty deep and bad; whichever coyote had made them had got him good. "You'll live, but you're probably gonna want to make sure all future girlfriends are into scars," he replied. He really wasn't the leading authority on medical questions though, so he had no idea if it would actually turn to scars or completely heal. He was just happy his brother was alive and hadn't lost his eye in the fight like Resin.

Artorias listened to Rudy's explanation of the events, nodding every so often while glancing around the bloody, snowy battlefield. It certainly made sense. With the harsh winter, many predators were becoming opportunist scavengers and getting more and more desperate for a meal. It was only then that Artorias actually spared a glance over Rudy's prey—then did a double take to really study the creature his brother had killed. What the hell was that thing?! Art stared with shocked eyes and mouth agape. He'd never seen anything like it before, but this strange winter was bringing out a whole new manner of unusual beasts. Rudy explained that he was hunting it to help feed the pack, and he had to agree that it did have a lot of meat on it. The animal could easily feed the entire pack for at least one meal, maybe even with some leftovers. Artorias turned amber eyes to Rudy, a small smile on his lips. He was proud of his brother stepping up to help the pack during this time.

"Of course you could have," he quipped back with a note of sarcasm in his voice when Rudy claimed he could have taken the coyotes on his own if not for the face he was tired. It wasn't that he thought his brother was weak by any means, but his melee with Tika and Ezra had shown him that numbers can often tip the scales of battle much more drastically than he would have thought. Art flicked an ear to Rudy's complaint that he hadn't brought anything to carry the creature back with, and that was when he met Rudy's golden gaze looking at him with implication. Oh sure, Rudyard expected him to bring it back home for him... With a roll of his eyes and a heavy sigh, Artorias shook his head and stepped closer to the dead animal. Thank the gods for all his training building his muscles up, because they were about to get tested.

"You just focus on limping back with me. If your legs give out, I'm leaving you in the snow." His mock threat issued, Artorias grabbed the dead animal by its haunches and began the arduous task of dragging the heavy corpse back towards the castle. Thankfully, the ice made the ground slick enough to help aid in sliding the body around, but it would still take some effort. He was suddenly very glad he hadn't been hurt badly in the fight. He waited for Rudy to take the lead and set the pace, following behind his "champion hunter" brother, dragging the gray boy's trophy all the way home.

"Speech" | Thoughts | ”Corbin"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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