Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes

The blue wolf enlightened him on who he was, and brightness took over the Warlord's face for a moment. He was certainly wearing his emotions on his sleeve tonight. The guarded wolf was open for the world to see. “Ahhh, Artorias my boy.” he said happily, leaning rather heavily on the other wolf as he came up to his side. Luckily Artorias had grown those last few inches as he reached adulthood. Leaning and stumbling and causing them both to weave as they made their way across the plains.

The question sparked the open wolf to overshare. The Warlord was going to be rather upset if he remembered any of this in the morning. “I had two great loves, and a best friend I could have loved. Now i’m ‘ere. Loveless, empty handed. My Wife…. No. no. My friend, she said to call her my friend now, wants little to do with me. I broke… I broke ‘er and Belle. Broke ‘em. Broke ‘em and none of them can love me.” he paused, blowing his nose on Artoria’s shoulder, his eyes openly leaking. “Most of my children are on guard around me, but Art loves me. Art loves me. Tell him I'm here, won’t you?” he muttered


"Speech!"

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