Where We Came From, Where We Are

Artorias saw the quiet appreciation in Bowen's eyes when he promised to do what he could to make this place her home again. Her soft, dainty paw rested atop one of his, warm where her skin met his. His gaze never dropped from hers, partly to show that he was committed to what he said, and partly because a tiny portion of him was still afraid that if he looked away she would disappear into thin air again. He couldn't lose his sister again—not after he'd lost so many wolves he loved already. He would give everything she needed and everything he had to pull her back together, not as the wolf she once was, but as the wolf she deserved to be. Nothing could turn back the clock and make them both puppies again the way things were. All they could do was let Adult Bowen and Adult Artorias get to know one another more closely and intimately.

His head snapped up in surprise when he tapped her bracer and saw her flinch, concerned amber eyes scouring her face for some clue as to what was wrong or what he'd done. That quiet gasp, her ears folded back in shame; he'd never seen Bowen react like this before. He didn't understand—not until she began to unlace her bracers and spoke of the marks each slaving company used. Artorias' heart sank, knowing what he'd find even before she finished removing her bracer. His eyes remained fixed on her foreleg while she removed the leather bracer, revealing the brand on the inside of her foreleg. He stared at the burned, raised skin, noting the fresher of the five marks. She explained how it had been done again once she'd bought her freedom.

Without saying a word, Artorias gingerly took Bowen's foreleg in his paws, holding her with a tender caress while he studied the permanent mark seared into her flesh. Amber eyes narrowed as the dark fire grew in them, a slight tremor of his lips thinly veiling a growl. If he ever met the pirates that had done this to his sister, he would be sure none of them had heads left by the end of the day. That obsessive protective part of him wanted to run out right now, to go hunt down those pirates and cut them all down like dogs. Only the stronger drive to love and comfort and protect his little sister kept him still, holding her leg as if she were the most treasured thing in the world. After a few long moments of quiet, Artorias released Bowen's leg to let it sink back to the ground. He turned those smoldering amber eyes back up to meet brilliant green, feeling something beyond anger gnawing at him while he stared into Bowen's eyes. Someone had hurt his sister, and they would have to pay. But more importantly, his sister had been hurt, and he needed to help her heal.

Artorias brought a big blue paw back up to softly reach for Bowen's cheek, moving slow to allow her the chance to pull back if she wanted to. If she didn't, he'd caress her cheek, guiding his muzzle to place a tender kiss to her head just between caramel-colored ears. He knew it couldn’t have been easy for her to share this with him, and he was deeply touched by her trust in him to let him close to her like this. "If I ever see those wolves, they're dead," he muttered under his breath, voice husky and low almost directly into Bowen's ears from how close his muzzle was. He nuzzled the top of Bowen's forehead, still reveling in the fact that she was home again. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Bowen. I tried to find you, but it wasn't enough..."

A sudden thought came to his mind, and he slowly retracted to meet his smaller sister's gaze once more. "I have something for you. It's back inside the castle." He motioned with a flick of his head, giving her a few moments to reaffix her bracer to her leg before leading her back inside and up the stairs to the second level. Down the Carpathius wing they turned, arriving at the first door—his bedroom. Artorias pushed the door open and stepped inside, moving over to the fireplace—more specifically, to the mantle above it, where a perfectly shaped glass sphere sat proudly on display. Art hopped up and grabbed it to present to Bowen. The orb, which had appeared much larger to them when they'd found it as pups, was still as shiny and pristine as the day they found it.

"When you disappeared, the entire pack was worried sick. We sent out search parties, but after two weeks, everyone gave up and assumed you were dead." Artorias smiled a crooked smile at his sister, a flash of white teeth just barely visible while he held the glass sphere. "I didn't give up. I kept searching and searching on my own. I... never found any trace of you, but I tried. When I felt my motivation wane, I went into your room and took this, as a memento of why I couldn't give up. Every time I looked at the orb, it reminded me of the day we spent exploring the woods. I couldn't give up on you. I loved you too damn much." Still smiling, Artorias handed the orb back to Bowen with a bashful grin. "I'm sorry I went into your room, and I'm sorry I technically stole from you. I just wanted to keep a little part of you close to me, so I could always remember why I couldn't give up, and to remind myself that I'd find you one day. Now that you're home... well, it belongs to you."

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Corbin" | "Argent"