I'm not leading you astray

Briar took her position without a word, and Artorias readied himself for the fight. Muscles tensed, nerves buzzing with energy, ready to burst forth. But where he had been expecting the call for the fight to begin, instead Mortis relaxed and told them to talk out their tactics to take him down. Artorias' shoulders slumped while he leered at the dire wolf, internally raging that he couldn't just get to the action and now had to deal with Briar. He wanted to roll his eyes, to huff and groan, to grump, but instead he relaxed and stood up straight again, turning to pace his way to the edge of the ring with his back turned to Mortis. He didn't want to be doing this. This felt extortionate.

Driving his sword into the sand so the blade stood upright on his own, Artorias waited, staring blankly out across the expanse of beach and the grasslands beyond while he took slow, focused breaths of the salty sea air. He waited until he heard Briar approach, but he would not turn to look at her, instead speaking from the side while he raked his claws idly through the sand and adjusted his armor around his neck, his body still growing and filling out in his armor more and more every day. Five minutes. Five fucking minutes of sitting here forcing chit chat with Briar.

"How do you want to do this?" he spoke low and hard once she'd gotten closer, his eyes gazing off at the horizon, doing everything he could to avoid as much contact with her as possible. If it were up to him, he would just stay out of her way and she would stay out of his, neither of them interacting. A split focus would work on Mortis too, and then neither of them would have to think, work, or communicate with the other. It would be like Mortis being forced to fight two different battles at once.

"Artorias Carpathius"