Para Bellum

Artorias snorted while he fixed the older brute with murderous eyes. His intent to be intimidating failed; Artorias was not scared by the pompous, puffed up edgelord. He was only a couple inches taller, a little more muscled, and a far cry older. What he lacked in experience, Artorias had in spirit and youth, and that was what gave him confidence to square up against the wolf who resembled death incarnate without fear. He had been fine letting the wolf's insults glance off of him without reaction, despite the vengeful fire raging in his soul, but the moment Oxx mentioned Gwyn, Artorias' anger began to show. Fiery eyes narrowed further, teeth bared from behind snarling lips. He didn't respond, refusing to give the wolf any sort of answer to satisfy his questions. He would not be complicit in this game.

The behemoth made some remark about Resin loving him and trusting him implicitly, making some off hand comment about how easy it would have been to kill her. "Loved you so much that she never even mentioned you," he retorted. He knew words would do no good to hurt the wicked brute, but it made him feel a little better. He wanted to unleash his rage on this wretch. The way he posed like some sort of fucked up model with his mother's skin over his back made Artorias' stomach churn, and he made a commitment to give Resin the proper funeral rites when he took her skin back from this bastard's cooling corpse. The wolf tried to chide him on his manners for asking his name first, but Artorias was beyond the point of caring. This wolf meant nothing to him. He deserved no respect and no formalities, only the justice he would receive at the end of Art's sword.

Oxx Carpathius. That was the name of his nemesis. "We can fix that real quick," snarled Artorias as the wolf deigned himself the last "true" Carpathius. "Now I know why she never spoke about you. You're a disgrace, an embarrassment to her name. No wonder she forgot about you." Artorias tensed his body more, the coil ready to explode forth. "Least I know she picked me and didn't give me up." If anything, the fact that he was adopted was more of an insult to Oxx than anything. Resin chose him, chose his siblings. Her little knight, she'd called him. She left him in her past for dead. Oxx continued to mess with Resin's skin, and Artorias snarled again. If he didn't stop doing that shit, he was going to take that paw first and leave the wolf to bleed out in the snow. Maybe he'd do it anyway.

Oxx didn't ask for his name, not that it mattered, since he'd be dead in a few minutes anyway, and got to his paws to begin their fight. Artorias scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You talked more than me." Grasping the hilt of Embershard in his jaws, Artorias drew his sword with a smooth rasp of metal on leather. The familiar weight of his weapon in his grasp brought the young brute a sense of power and safety. His mother was watching over him. She had prepared him for this, armed him for such an occasion. Now he would make her proud.

Artorias began the fight, launching himself towards Oxx like a missile as his tensed legs kicked off the ground in a flurry of snow. He ran straight for the brute, narrowed eyes focused on where he aimed to swing: the man's neck. He used his speed and smaller size to his advantage, leaping at an angle to Oxx's side with a flourish of his blade aimed straight for his throat. He could end this fight in one swing if he kept himself agile and around Oxx's side. Embershard was lethal, and all it would take was one good slice.

"Artorias"