I'm not leading you astray

Artorias had gotten settled into the Armada without much incident. After Sirius had welcomed him in for his stay and showed him around, the Hallowed wolf retired to the barracks to unpack and learn his temporary new home. He stowed his sword away, opting instead to carry one of the wooden sparring swords he had brought with him from the castle. Shortly before Outlaw had left the pack for his own journeys, he had shown Artorias how to craft the swords so he could replace all the old rotten ones with more sturdy ones. Sirius had told him the training program would focus on each wolf's individual strengths, and Art's happened to be utilizing weapons, so the swords came with him.

The boy had been wandering around Armada territory to get a lay of the land with Corbin floating lazily in the air around him when Mortis' call came out for him. Head snapped up and alert amber eyes glanced out towards the nearby sea. Mortis needed him down on the beach? Curious, but okay. Giving a shrug to Corbin who also shot him a confused glance, Artorias made his way down to the shore. He showed up still dressed in his armor with a sparring sword on his back, a small smile on his lips the moment his feet touched the soft sand and the sound of lapping waves filled his ears. Artorias loved the beach and the ocean; he'd always been drawn to it, even as a pup.

It wasn't hard to find Mortis, the massive winged wolf at the training ring on the beach. He padded up to his host and greeted him with a tip of his head. "Mortis," he began, the coastal wind tousling his fur in the warm breeze. "I'm guessing you've got something fun planned, huh?"



"Artorias Carpathius"