Lets call it educational

Absinthe gave freely the information on his slaves history, and the Warlord glanced back at the fire marked woman. How her birthright as a noblewoman had been taken from her. His godson surveyed the offered wolf. Looking her over up and down, his expression passive and giving away little. It wasn’t until he returned to the front of her that Sirius saw a spark of something familiar in the boy’s golden gaze. He would have this wolf.

Despite the growing possessiveness, he had the spatial awareness to follow their guide's eyes to the shadowy alcove, and see the outline of the puppet master. The Warlord noted the man as well, but mostly his eyes were for Art. Watching the way a determination, a need, fell over his eyes. When Art glanced his way, Sirius gave a subtle nod. Yes, he understood. Art wanted this wolf, wanted to call her his. That possessive streak was something Sirius could understand all too well. Mine.

Artorias agreed to the deal. His eyes held to that of Lia’s for a long moment, before he finally glanced away again, returning them to their host. The Warlord stepped in, placing a paw on Art’s shoulder for a second. “You belong now to the Armada, Idalia” he rumbled. Which was true in part, though ultimately her fate lay with Art.

"Sirius Fatalis"