Aegis' and Warlord's

“I’m glad for it, godson.” The sentimental oldman said with a small smile, reaching over to clasp his paw over Art’s for a brief moment. The long and the short was, Art was a son to him. He had been for a long time now, and he always would be. “You’ll be here long after I’m gone. Perhaps one day you’ll be the one guiding and teaching the younger generation of Armada leaders” he suggested, casting a small smile in the other wolf's direction. He had a hope that what he and Resin had created - The Armada and The Hallows, would persevere for generations.

“As do I.” he agreed, and then let out a soft sigh when Art spoke of those that had been permanently injured from the illness. “I’ve often precured companion animals in the past. If you would like me to reach out for my supplier - assuming he survived this - I can search for companions that might be able to negate some of the negatives” he suggested, wanting to do what he could to help.

He blinked when Art spoke of Resin, though it should not have surprised him. He knew she had been the Hallows first - as she should have. He looked down over teh gardens, thinking of the wolf he had loved and lost. “She came to me also. That’s how I knew that my sister was here - she told me” he explained softly. “She…” he paused, and reached over his paw so that Art could see the strange marking across what had once been white trimming on his paw. Gold. The exact same shade as Resin’s one eye. “It fell from her eye like a tear, and when I touched it, it stained my coat. When it washed off, the fur underneath came out like this.” He explained to Artorias. “She’s still out there Artorias, watching over everything she had loved in life.”


"Sirius Fatalis"