Chess, Not Checkers

Artorias tried to remain as stony-faced as he could when Sirius confirmed that Briar would be part of the training program, focusing instead on Venom's son joining them. That would be good; the Ashen children were young, but he was familiar with their parents and respected Venom. He would be interested to see what the youngling could contribute, though he had no qualms about giving far more than he took in this exchange. It was all part of being a mentor, after all. Sirius lamented the fact that the other packs hadn't responded to his program, but Artorias simply rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Well, if they don't, that will just give us more one-on-one time," he remarked with a smile. He did feel bad that Seer hadn't gotten the attendance he clearly wanted, but so long as Artorias left this feeling like he'd learned some valuable lessons on how to be a leader, then he'd consider it a success.

The two wolves arrived at the barracks just as the downpour began to start. Artorias glanced up at the roof of the barracks while listening to the thundering rain outside. He briefly mulled over Sirius' words. The other packs had been quiet. He hoped that didn't mean anything ill had occurred and that perhaps everyone was simply enjoying a bit of peace. Artorias shrugged off the furs he was carrying to set up his bed for the next season, unfastening his armor and shedding it along with his sword and satchel. "I did indeed mention wine," he replied with a chuckle, opening up the satchel and retrieving three bottles of wine, one after another to present to the Warlord, each one containing a well-aged red. "I haven't tried it yet, but Ulric says it's very good."

"Artorias Carpathius"