Para Bellum

The wintery ground betrayed the massive brute's stealth, the crunch of snow beneath heavy paws making Artorias' ears flick back to catch the subtle sound. His head snapped around to face... by the gods, what was he facing?! It was a wolf, a gargantuan brute as tall and muscled as Ulric or Sirius. The wolf was clothed in a coat of dark slate and snow white, with dappled charcoal markings along his back and tail. Cold, empty slate eyes leered at him, and his smile showed off those deadly serrated teeth. There was no doubt; this was the wolf he was hunting. Dammit! This was the second time he'd been caught off guard stalking one of his supposed older siblings! First Eska, now this bastard. And he hadn't even worn his armor this time to give him away! Artorias silently cursed that Resin had never taught him the art of moving unseen, since her other children appeared to be ninjas.

As intimidating at the other wolf looked, that wasn't what gave Artorias reason to pause. It was the dried husk of his mother's sun draped over the large brute's back like a macabre cloak, hanging limp and lifeless and completely horrific. The brute batted one of Resin's limp paws around like a wave, and Artorias bared his teeth in a vicious growl. Rage burned in his burnt amber eyes. This was all a joke to this wolf, but it didn't matter. Artorias knew he was still mortal, he could still bleed, and he could die. Artorias didn't respond to the wolf's greeting, nor his mocking remarks of the effort it took to find him. He was too focused on his opponent, mentally preparing himself for the fight that was to come. This would be his first real fight, and a fight to the death. He could not lose.

Artorias nodded to Corbin, who took to the air to keep himself out of the fray. He would be the backup plan, to fly south to fetch his family if the battle went awry and Artorias needed medical aid afterwards. The thought of him losing wasn't even a possibility in the young brute's mind. His cause was just and his skills were honed. This monster would die today. "What did my mother call you, besides a mistake?" he asked the behemoth with the edge of a growl in his voice. "I want to know what name to give my sister when I place your head at her feet." Artorias' paws flexed against the ground, clawing at the snow and frozen earth. His muscles were tensed, his nerves electrified and ready to respond. Embershard lay just within reach; a quick turn of his head and he'd draw his blade. Then there would be blood.

"Artorias"