What Happens in Fenmyre...

Chimera was a difficult man to get a read on, but Artorias knew when the brute was leading him on. When he'd spoken with Chimera before, the man had been decisive and assured. His hesitance while he considered his price told Artorias that the split-toned man knew exactly what he wanted and was building up the tension. It was working though; the young alpha was getting more and more agitated by the moment. His teeth gnashed together as he held his jaw set tight. He needed to vent his anger before it consumed him. Chimera finally gave his demand, and it was enough to make Artorias take pause, his anger momentarily paused, yet still ever-present.

He wanted some of his warriors to help protect his pack until the king's women gave birth and the pups were less vulnerable. Artorias balked. As much as he desired relief, he would be remiss to trade away any of his devoted wolves for the sake of his own urges. What sort of alpha would he be if he dealt in trading flesh for flesh? A slave for a warrior was far from an even trade, but Chimera was preying on the young brute's urgent need. An immediate service for a greater price.

"This would not be a permanent transfer," said Artorias, glancing to Chimera for elucidation. He had his own terms to add if he was trading manpower to his ally. "I'll give you my best warrior for the remainder of this season and the entirety of fall. I'll need him back by the winter when I take my pack to ensure transitions go smoothly. He can help train any warriors you recruit between now and then." He looked back to the cowering slave girl, then once more to Chimera, eager to let himself off his mental leash, but not until they'd reached an accord. He had the perfect wolf in mind for the job, and a little more worldly experience would do his friend good. "Deal?"

"Artorias Carpathius"