A Feast of Thanks

Artorias lifted his head with a mouthful of roasted meat when his mother continued her address to the pack. He watched his mothers with studying eyes, observing the way they interacted, the way Resin spoke and carried herself as alpha, the way she spoke with resolution and command. A feast of family? That made sense, he supposed; a pack was a sort of family, after all. But then Resin continued, calling his name and the boy met her singular optic, then the names of each of his siblings, by blood or by adoption, and dropped the greatest surprise of his life. Artorias' mouth dropped open, gaping in awe as his mother named them all as part of a singular family—their family. Carpatihus. That was the name she had told him about back when they were living in Boreas, when he had shared his concerns about their familial bonds, and when she had consoled him. His mothers had chosen to take that name back and unite them all underneath it.

They were the Carpathius family. He was Artorias Carpathius, and he would bring honor to his family in his actions and his choices.

Pride swelled in the young boy's chest, a huge toothy smile splitting his muzzle from cheek to cheek. He was barely able to sit still, little paws tapping on the chair while he glanced back and forth between his siblings in attendance. They were all a real family now! Even Mama seemed to be just as happy as he had, and now mom Resin had given the name to Mama Tamsyn too and they were officially mates! Artorias gave a happy bark and bounded over to both of his parents, placing his paws up on their chairs to reach up and nuzzle each of his parents' legs in turn. He fixed his bright amber gaze on Resin, tail wagging a mile a minute, saying, "Thanks, Mom! This is the best surprise ever!" Truly it meant the world to the boy, and he now had something else to aspire to: to bring greatness to the Carpathius family name, to make it synonymous with strength and shelter. He would not let his parents down.