Built to Burn

It took some patience and coaxing, but gradually the bird beneath the bed began to inch his way closer to the edge, looking at the Aegis with so much bewilderment that Artorias didn't exactly know what to say or how to address it right away. When the raptor chick finally began to emerge, Artorias was able to get a better look at him. The fledgling was covered in puffy, soft down feathers all over, showing just how young he really was, likely no more than a couple of weeks to a month at the oldest. Though smaller than himself, the boy was large for a fledgling, and no doubt would be a large bird of prey like the harpy eagle had been. But Artorias didn't recognize the kind of bird Zephyrus was. Maybe he'd ask Rudy if he could identify him, being a hunter and all.

The fledgling introduced himself as Zephyrus, keeping a close eye on Artorias' maw that the wolf noticed. Were his teeth frightening the lad? He could certainly understand why, especially given that he'd almost been eaten by another raptor. Zephyrus gestured to show him where he'd been nesting—inside of the room's chimney—and then gazed in awe at the carnage left about the room, as well as the bisected eagle. Artorias flinched a little when he heard the clack of Zeph's beak shutting in a hurry, seeing the wide-eyed shock on the youngling's face. He supposed there was no hiding the evidence of battle, but Zephyrus didn't seem too perturbed by it. "You don't have to call me that, Zephyrus. You can call me Artorias, or Art," he offered, rising back to his paws to make his way over to the fireplace.

Artorias poked his head in the fireplace, gazing up the dark shaft to the light of day up above, wondering just where and how he managed to fit in such a tight space or where one would even build a nest in here. With no real way to investigate further, the wolf withdrew and turned back to face the soot and blood covered chick. He considered the small creature before him, then glanced back up to the slaughtered eagle and murdered owl. If left alone without care, Zephyrus would certainly die. In his mind, there was only one real option. "Are you hungry, Zephyrus? I have food downstairs. We can get you something to eat, then see about those scrapes on your head and getting your feathers cleaned up."

He walked back over to the bird that had now fallen under his care and protection, lowering himself back to the ground to he was level with Zeph and gave him a gentle smile and empathetic eyes. Whether the boy realized his adoptive mother was dead yet or not, he would eventually. As someone who had lost his own mother in a horrific way, Artorias knew what feelings the boy would likely begin to feel as he processed everything. And if Zephyrus truly had nothing left, then Artorias would give him back what he'd lost. "I know you're probably still scared, Zephyrus. I know you don't know me and I'm a stranger. But I'd like to take care of you, just for a little bit. Would that be okay?" Of course, Artorias knew the truth. He'd be caring for Zeph for far longer than a little bit, but he'd let the child's mind process that in time. Right now, he just wanted to get the boy away from the bloodbath, get his wounds treated, and get some food in his belly.

"Artorias Carpathius"