Let's Play a Drinking Game

The Aegis didn't want to admit it, nor would he, but Artisan had hit the nail on the head. Artorias didn't understand where he was coming from because he couldn't understand. He had grown up in the castle, taught responsibility and duty to the family and the pack above all else. His childhood had been filled with rigorous training, lessons that had sculpted him into who he was as a leader. But it had also deprived him of any chance to be a puppy. He hadn't spent many days just playing with his siblings or making friends, he'd taken his mother's lessons to heart with rigid determination. There hadn't really been any balance in his life; he'd put 100% into his training every day until his mother died. Living a life without responsibilities, without duties, just having fun and doing whatever he wanted... that wasn't something that even seemed possible. Glancing away quietly, Artorias began to wonder if perhaps there was something to be learned from Artisan.

A little bit of somewhat salacious amusement flickered back into Artorias' flame-kissed eyes when Artisan told him not to tempt the other male, lest Artorias be facing down an angry Briar in the morning. "Oh, so I'm tempting you, am I?" He flashed his teeth in a rakish grin. The younger alpha obviously became a horny drunk when the liquor got to him. "Pssh, and who's to say I'd be the one getting addicted to you? Maybe the debonair swashbuckler finds he likes getting tangled up in soft sheets on large beds. Maybe you should worry about me being addictive." He asked his question of Artisan's beaded bracelet, and the way the wolf clutched his decorated foreleg to his chest made Artorias realize he'd unintentionally asked a deep personal question. Artisan was a good sport and answered though, explaining how he'd made them and how each bead represented someone in his life. Artorias blinked in amazement, coming closer to inspect the intricate beads better. He didn't reach for Artisan, however, just looking with his eyes at each gorgeous bead. "You made these?" Through his drunken haze, Artorias recalled Artisan explaining he was good with his paws. "Fuck, they're stunning. Artisan, they're incredible!"

On Artisan's face, Artorias saw the flash of sadness and loneliness. The wolf wore his heart on his sleeve, all of his emotions out for the world to see. It was honest and refreshing. Artorias never had to guess what Artisan was feeling. The azure-furred male didn't say a word about his bracelet being short friends. He had more beads than Artorias could think of wolves for his own. Again he was reminded of the missed opportunities in his earlier life. Friends were not something Artorias had in ample supply. He watched Artisan make his throw, half expecting another horrendous miss—only to hear the pirate score his first bullseye of the game. Artorias couldn't help but laugh and clap his paws for Artisan, totally loosened up thanks to the alcohol and also just having fun. Oh, wait... this was fun. Artorias was playing games with pirates and having a good time. That was unexpected... but not unpleasant.

Well, at least it wasn't until Artisan asked his question. The smile slowly fell from Artorias' face, the mirthful and sultry light dimming in those amber eyes. What would he do if he could do any one thing without consequence? Well, that was an easy answer for Artorias—but far from an easy answer to give. But the game had rules, and as far as he could tell, Artisan had been truthful in all his answers. The corner of his lip twitching into an uneasy frown, he grabbed the bottle of rum, taking not one, but two long swigs just for the hell of it. "I'd kill my brother," he admitted in a low mutter that growled in his throat. Pushing the bottle towards Artisan who would no doubt want another drink just because, Artorias took his place at the mark and threw, finally breaking his win streak by landing the horseshoe a few inches shy and stumbling back to the table to take his penalty shot of rum.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"