Para Bellum

Artorias expected some sort of counter maneuver from Oxx. He expected a dodge, a parry, something to keep him on his toes and the fight moving. What he hadn't been expecting was a snowball to the face. When he was much too close to stop his charge, the ball of ice and snow flew directly into the left side of his face, stinging at his eye from the impact and making him yelp in surprise. Blinded temporarily, Artorias could only feel when his sword failed to make contact with any sort of flesh, swinging wildly through the air to no effect. Before he could try to regain his poise, the force of the brute's massive body collided with his side and a powerful foreleg swept his own paws out from underneath him. Artorias hit the cold, unforgiving ground with a grunt and a dull pain in his side, the force just enough to clear the snow and ice from his eye so he could see the moment Oxx's skull came down to meet his in a painful head butt.

Another yelp left the young brute under his "brother's" assault, trying desperately to swing his sword for the other wolf's face. Stars exploded before Artorias' eye with each merciless blow, each one rattling his skull so hard that his sword went tumbling from his jaws no matter how hard he tried to hold on. Something warm and wet splattered across his muzzle, and Artorias realized it was blood. But whether it was from the slice he'd managed to make on Oxx's cheek or the trails of blood streaming from his own nose, he couldn't tell. Disarmed and on the ground, Artorias could put up no fight as his ruthless opponent kicked Embershard away and pinned him to the ground with a massive paw on his throat. Weight pressed down on his windpipe, and Art immediately began to kick and thrash, choking and gasping for breath while he clawed at Oxx's leg, trying too cause enough damage with his claws to make him yield so he could breathe. Instinctual primal panic took over Artorias' brain when he realized he was on the losing end of a deathmatch. Oxx had him dead to rights, and if he didn't break free soon, in a matter of minutes he would be nothing more than a corpse.

Oxx chided and ridiculed him, called him a baby, nothing to him. The paw on his throat pressed down harder, fully restricting his airflow and nearly crushing his trachea. Art wheezed with panicked, desperate eyes searching for a way out while hind legs kicked and scrabbled at the ground. He could feel his heartbeat pounding at the inside of his skull, the world beginning to spin and shift in and out of focus as oxygen deprivation began to take its toll, sapping the strength and life from him. Just before he blacked out totally, he heard Oxx purr out a sick, seductive threat, but the boy didn't realize what was going on until Oxx had already rolled him onto his stomach. Artorias gasped and swallowed a deep breath of air—only to have that breath released as a cry of pain when serrated fangs sunk into the back of his neck. The feeling of his flesh rending beneath those steak knives of teeth was entirely foreign, as was the warm flow of his blood spilling down the back his neck. It was only once Artorias felt Oxx's massive frame over his did he understand what the sadistic fuck had meant, and his fighting began anew, struggling and kicking against Oxx's hold on him, despite tearing his flesh more on the brute's teeth. No no no no no no no no no...! And then Artorias screamed.

- fade fade fade faaaaaaaaaaaaaade -

Artorias lay limp across the frigid snowy ground once Oxx had finished dominating him in totality, amber eyes staring out into space as he tried to catch his breath and reorient himself. Pain had completely consumed his body, most notably from the bites on the back of his neck and the aching beneath his tail. He felt and looked a mess, blood and other fluids soaking through his fur and matting it into an unkempt mess. Artorias wanted to get back up and fight, to keep going at Oxx with everything he had, but his body just felt broken and exhausted. A flash of silver in the snow just ahead of him caught his attention. His sword! If he could just reach it, he might stand a chance still!

Oxx began to speak, that voice sickening him to his core while he said he would let him live after enduring the humiliation he just had. Artorias didn't respond to him, instead grunting as he tried to pull himself across the ground toward his fallen weapon—only to feel those razor sharp teeth carve through his neck and shoulder again, making the young brute cry out in pain and growl. Artorias was dragged unceremoniously away from his sword, watching his only lifeline get further and further away. The hope inside him died as his soft underbelly scraped against rocks and ice, cutting him up and bruising him a bit until Oxx deposited him on an outcropping over the rapidly flowing river. Artorias glanced down at the icy waters below and felt a thrill of fear when he understood what was about to happen. Oxx brought his muzzle down to his ear, whispered his goodbyes, then said he was keeping the sword.

That brought Artorias back to life, who snarled and swung a paw up towards Oxx's face, but instead only received a harsh kick to the side and groaned in pain, then shouted out in horror as he went careening over the ledge and down into the arctic waters. Hitting the surface felt like a million knives hitting his skin all at once, it was so painful. Then came the cold. The frigid water sapped almost all of Artorias' strength in and instant, leaving the wolf limp and flailing uselessly as he was swept away down the Rio Grande. He paddled desperately at the water to try and keep himself afloat, narrowly avoiding a rock jutting out of the water, only to end up slamming into another one with a groan. Down and down he went, the current pulling him under a few times only for Artorias to reemerge coughing and sputtering. He was a prisoner to the river's mercy, and just like Oxx, the river showed him no mercy.

Keeping his head above water became his only task, and even that felt like a chore. More than once the river tried to drown him, pulling him under for long stretches of time before he managed to fight his way back to air. Bouncing between the rocks like a pinball would leave him bruised and sore no doubt, but the worst came when the river pulled Artorias towards a small waterfall. Artorias tried to swim for the shore, but it was to no avail. The young wolf went over the edge with another shout of terror, and then was dragged through the underwater tow until he burst out of the water half drowned. This pattern continued for several miles until the Rio Grande spat his weak and broken body out into the sea. The current of the ocean took him from there, thankfully gentler and more predictable than the river had been.

He didn't know how long he swam for, but eventually Artorias was washed up onto a shore of pitch black sand. The wolf emerged from the sea coughing up river and sea water, hobbling up the shore, practically dragging himself at this point with how exhausted and in pain his body was. Every muscle felt sore, his body ached in places it never had, and the contrasting sensation fo warm blood running through his frozen wet coat felt alien on his skin. His open wounds stun from the saltwater in them, but they were the least of his concerns. Artorias managed to make it up to a dry portion of the beach before he collapsed to the sand, his body finally giving up the fight. His breathing was slow, labored, but steady. Bleary eyes gazed off into space while he stared down the length of the beach. He wanted to lift his head to call for help from somebody—anybody! But with no energy left to even keep his eyes open, Artorias dropped his heavy head to the sand and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and ignoring the pain until his brain decided to show his demolished body a kindness and he finally blacked out.

"Artorias"