Let the Rain Fall Down

Mortis' response was so... normal, it somehow felt off. He didn't push the matter though; the Fatalis wolf's business was his own, after all, and he didn't need to be snooping. Artorias watched in confusion when Mortis stretched out one of his large wings, wondering what he was up to until he suddenly realized there was now a lack of rain falling on his face. A quick glance up confirmed that Mortis was shielding him from the weather with his wing. Artorias was still baffled by how a wolf could have wings like a bird and silently wondered if Mortis was able to fly as well, but something about that line of thought felt inappropriate to ask out loud. He scoffed and shook his head when Mortis questioned why he was out in the bad weather himself.

"I was running patrols. Someone has to," he replied, hesitating before adding, "...I just couldn't be in the castle for a minute longer. I needed to go somewhere..." Somewhere where he wasn't constantly reminded of how his family was suffering. Somewhere where he couldn't hear the wild snarls and howls of his dying mother. Somewhere where he wouldn't feel suffocated by the weight of his responsibility to keep his family on their feet. "...else." He glanced up at Mortis' wing again, bringing his gaze down to meet the older man's blue eyes. "You don't have to do that for me, y'know. I'm sure that's not comfortable to hold your..." Gods, what did he even say? Limb? Wing? Appendage? What was the correct term?! "...wing like that."

"Artorias" | "Corbin"