the overactive mind of a believer

Throughout his talk, Artorias noted the passive, almost indifferent look on Avantika's face. It was as if she were trying to put herself in another situation, to ignore whatever was chewing her up inside and push on, to overcome and override whatever was bothering her. It concerned Art, but he also knew that pushing her would do neither of them any good. She didn't say a single word the entire time he was speaking, just letting him go on. When he stopped, she was quiet for a while, and then she apologized. For what, Artorias didn't know. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Tika," he spoke certainly and with an ease of a brother shooting the shit with one of his siblings. This wasn't an alpha coming to his wolf; this was a brother looking out for his sister. He didn't know what she wanted to believe, or why she didn't believe in herself when she'd accomplished so much. It saddened Artorias to think that one of his siblings—Tika especially—was being so harshly critical of herself.

Avantika shifted the subject abruptly, signaling her desire to end this topic and move on to something else, so Artorias would oblige her. "Mostly, I've been getting the bonfire set up for the festival soon. I admit, I'm feeling the pressure to make it perfect, since it's our first time ever holding it." Secretly, Art also wanted it to be perfect as his way of paying homage to Resin for establishing their pack and family. She deserved nothing less than perfection from him, and even now after her passing, he felt the weight of her expectations heavy on his shoulders. "I've been in close talks with Ashen's empress as well. Seems she has an interest in forming an alliance with us." How would Tika take the news of a potential alliance with Ashen? He knew his sister's feelings on the matter of Fenmyre, which is why he'd been slow in making any headway with the island pack. Still, he valued her input and her opinion on the matter.

"Artorias Carpathius"