Aegis' and Warlord's

Io was asleep, bundled up and warm when the Warlord slipped away. He thought of the little model cart, abandoned somewhere in the grass. Of her thin coat, and the layers of muck that had settled into it. She was a wolf barely living, and it worried her to no end. She did not think she was living at all, and it frightened him to think how easy it would be for her to take that step, and leave them all behind.

Shaking his head, thinking of the wisp his once powerful-natured sister had become, the Warlord made his way through the maze of the castle. Even after spending some time here recovering, he still found it difficult to navigate. He was too accustomed to the open landscape of his home. He raised his head and let out a soft chuffing call, mindful of how easily his voice echoed over the stones. He didn’t wish to wake anyone. He could only hope that Art would hear his call.
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"Sirius Fatalis"