Chasing shadows

Following the raid on the Hallows, Artorias had stepped up security around the pack. Border patrol frequencies were increased, run with two guards instead of the usual one. They'd managed to defeat and repel the pirates, but the fact that violence had come so easily to his doorstep did not make the Aegis happy. And so it was, Artorias was patrolling around the eastern border of Hallowed lands, keeping his eyes, ears, and nose up and alert. He wouldn't put it past the pirates to try something again, and if they did, he'd be ready to meet violence with violence. He half expected to see them still lurking around the borders, spying on them, waiting for an opportunity to strike. But he found no sign of threats near the border. Instead, what he did find brought his whole world so a sudden stop.

Walking past the borders near the wild gardens to the southeast, Artorias' nose picked up a subtle scent on the wind. It was faint, but it instantly sparked innate memories deep inside him. The dire brute froze mid-stride, eyes shooting wide open as he sampled the scent on the air much more fervently. He recognized the scent of the wolf, ringing in his brain like a bell. Though from a time long ago and nearly forgotten, it could never wholly be removed from his memory. It can't be... Artorias' head snapped to face the gardens, passing swiftly over the borders and sprinting up the hillside to reach the top. He hurried about the clusters of herbs and wildflowers, head turning wildly as he tried to locate the source of the scent.

He found her in the middle of the old gardens, sniffing at some wildflowers. At first, he almost didn't recognize her. It had been a year since they'd seen each other last, both wolves having grown to maturity and filled out from their youthful puppy states. But there was no denying it. He recognized the dark fur segmented by silver streaks, the unique lines curving their way down her sides. He caught a glimpse of the two-toned eyes, golden and mint. Artorias was staring at his long-lost sister. Mouth hung agape, unable to say anything, unable to do anything. She was here; she'd come back home. A tightening gripped his chest and Artorias felt like he couldn't breathe, the emotion was too thick. First Grim, then Bowen, now Daphne. The Carpathians were one by one returning home.

"Daphne..." Artorias called out to her, a touch of apprehension in his voice, just for the off chance that this wasn't his sister, but a specter of his past he was fantasizing. He needed her to respond. He needed her to confirm that she was real and his sister had come home.

"Artorias Carpathius"