Aegis' and Warlord's

The young Hallows leader didn’t hesitate to let Sirius pull him into an embrace. A father comforting a son, he held Artorias for a time on the terrace. The cool light of the moon casting a glow upon the two wolves, and the garden below. He patted the boys back gently, until his breathing evened, and he gently pulled away. Sirius offered no resistance, and his expression was muted, if gentle, when he relaxed back on his hunched before the other wolf.

“I did” he agreed softly as Art mentioned his sister. The very first wolf Sirius had claimed as his family. From the first day he had met Io, it was as if they had known each other all their lives. Resin's daughter had always had an undeniable strength to her. And now…? She was broken, and lost. He had come for her, but he was weary of the wolf he had found in her place.

“Resin told me some of her struggles, but I don’t know what I expected. She…” he paused, shaking his head, concern furrowing his brows. “She looks like she’s forgotten what regular meals and baths are. She believes she’s dead, because she can’t face the truth.” That the love of her life was gone. The Warlord could relate, how could he not? He had been anything but himself when he believed his wife dead. He wished he could spare Io that pain, but he could not bring the dead back to life. He had experienced it for himself, and yet despite this, he struggled to know how to help the woman. “I fear she’s a suicide risk, Art.”

"Sirius Fatalis"