Chess, Not Checkers

Artorias's tri-colored tail wagged excitedly as Sirius rose to his full height to square off with him in the barracks, bright eyes and wide, toothy grin showing his enthusiasm despite his inability to remain standing still. He snickered when Seer knocked over the wine, considering heckling the giant of a wolf for his level of inebriation as well while he watched this massive wolf try to carefully set down the delicate bottle. Once their alcohol was safely set aside and Seer gave him the order to charge, Artorias gave a playful growl and lunged for Sirius.

His first step ended up with him stumbling forward, almost toppling facedown into the ground, but he managed to recover enough to throw himself at the Warlord. In his mind, Artorias was trying to convince his body to obey his well trained and choreographed steps and stances, but in reality, the boy ended up basically running straight into the Warlord like a rugby player, throwing his weight into him with only a fraction of his usual stability and grace. Artorias gave slurred, wobbly growls and reached up with his paws to try and grapple Sirius around his neck, not really going into this with any real strategy other than thinking he could somehow grab and pin a wolf with several inches and dozens of pounds on him when his own legs felt more like jelly.

"Artorias"