Aegis' and Warlord's

Artorias must have had a second sense for when wolves in his pack needed him. He heard the muted call and trotted along shortly after. The Warlord smiled at his young friend, shaking his head again at the equal height of the man. He had really grown since he had last seen the Hallows leader. “Of course” he agreed quietly, and followed after the other wolf.

“Of course, you know I’ll come running when family needs me” He said with a warm smile and a nod towards Art - an indication he meant Art himself and not just Io. At the mans words however, his smile fell away. “It was certainly touch and go there. We lost one warrior to the illness, and another took off while we were too sick to stop them.” He explained. The warrior he had lost had been a friendly, kind man. Sirius hadn’t been close to him, but he had belonged to Sirius, and the loss was still felt. As for the coward - well, certainly he wasn’t a wolf the Warlord wanted in the pack regardless.

The Warlord draped his own paws over the railing and looked across at the gardens. It was night now, but the day would come again. It had done so with surprisingly reliability the last few days, at any rate. “And how about you, Artorias, did you all make it?”


"Sirius Fatalis"