Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes

The Warlord's cryptic responses did little to sate the curiosity of the young alpha. Life was long and messy? What was the Fatalis patriarch going on about? Artorias racked his brain for an answer while he helped his stumbling godfather across the plains and towards the castle. "No no, we're not there yet," he said to the drunk wolf when he stopped and began searching the fields for alcohol as if it would sprout from the earth like a vegetable. It took some effort and guidance, but slowly Artorias managed to corral Sirius into the castle and through the gardens. He stopped and let Seer sit in the cool night air beneath a wisteria tree while he went and retrieved a bottle of wine from the castle, bringing it back out and popping the cork before handing the drink over.

Artorias didn't know if it would be prudent or not to allow the intoxicated man to keep drinking, but at this point, he wasn't sure what else to do, and he wanted answers. With the wine handed over to Sirius, Artorias took a seat on the soft grass beside the other dire wolf, looking him over in appraisal of his condition. "So your life's gotten pretty messy, huh?" Art repeated back in clarification. "What's going on, Seer? Is everything okay? Are... you okay?"

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