But if it had to perish twice,

The bite of the sharp knife had been much more effective than his wooden sword this time, but it still hadn't been enough. Sirius was too muscle-dense, his fur thick, his pain tolerance absurdly high. That coupled with the fact the knife blade was not designed for cutting still left a less than optimal strike. Seer snarled and yelled at him to target his weaker points and act like he'd been in a fight before. Artorias growled louder under his breath, the chiding words of the Warlord tearing at his conflicted conscience. The fire in his heart that had started to die down flared up again. From where he stood, Art met Tamsyn's angry gaze. He looked at his mother's mind eyes, and for a brief moment he thought about the what if. What if she hadn't been strong enough to make that journey and back? What if her injuries had taken their toll on her before she came home? What if he had seen Sirius pulling a cart with her body on it instead of just giving her a ride? All of those possibilities had been scarily possible, and she didn't seem to care, nor did Seer consider those.

The anger burned at his heart again and uncertain amber eyes glazed over with violent rage and a lust for vengeance. Sirius wanted him to act like he'd fought? He wanted to be treated like an enemy? Fine. Artorias had been holding back, reserving himself to Resin's teachings when fighting with loved ones. Give your opponent every opportunity to submit, and if they do not... do what needs to be done.

A deadly snarl erupted from the Carpathius boy and, with a quick turn, he aimed to bring the knife down in a quick stab aimed for the spot right between Sirius' shoulder and foreleg, like he would do to incapacitate a moving foe. Whether his strike was successful or not, Artorias moved swiftly, turning to both pull the knife back and completing the turn to bring it around towards Seer's collar near the base of his neck. The blade was precise, and he aimed to make sure no vitals would be hit while still inflicting enough pain and damage by driving the knife as deep as he could go on each stab. He growled with fury and struck hard and fast, keeping himself moving so his body wouldn't have a chance to stop and start shaking with the raw volatile emotion.

"Artorias" | Thoughts