fly so high that i need to come down for oxygen

Despite the turbulent hurricane raging just outside and the danger the pair of them had been in just moments before, Artorias found it impossible to resist even a little bit of humor at Zephyrus' innocent and youthful remarks about the weather not being this bad back home. The wolf chuckled, then laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation and the rotten turn of luck on their part almost feeling like a cruel joke of fate now that they were safe and he could laugh at it upon reflection. The important matter was that they were both alive and had shelter. Sure, they were soaked through and uncomfortable, but fur and feathers would dry with time in the cave. "No, no it usually doesn't storm this bad back home," Artorias agreed while he sniffed about the cave, looking around for anything they could use. "Sometimes it does, but not very often. We've had some really bad storms before you were born."

As luck would have it, this cave must have belonged to someone in Abaven before, as the Aegis came about a small pile of old yet dry furs tucked in the back of the cave. Artorias pulled them out and carried some over to Zeph, passing the blankets to his child to dry off with and get comfortable on while he threw one over his own soaked form to absorb the moisture from his pelt. "Here, sit. I'll help you dry off." Wincing a bit as he was forced to put weight on his leg, Art slowly slid down to sit on the ground, settling in for what he assumed would be the long haul if the howling winds and booming claps of thunder were any indicators. Taking one of the furs in his paws, he gently swaddled it around the parts of his growing avian son he could reach to wick away the rainwater from his fledgling plumage. As he moved about to dry Zeph, Art noticed the frown on the raptor's face. Artorias' brow furrowed in concern, but he wouldn't have to ask what was bothering his ward as Zephyr volunteered the answer in the form of an apology.

"Zephyrus, no. You have nothing to be sorry for," Artorias was quick to correct his son, his voice gentle yet firm in his conviction of Zephyr's guiltlessness. "You did great. You flew in weather that was much too dangerous for a young flyer and you found us this shelter to keep us safe. You did help, you saved us, and you did amazing. Be proud of yourself. I'm proud of you." The wolf smiled up at the fledgling Argentavis with a fatherly warmth in his expression, lifting a paw to reach forward so he could rest it on Zeph's closest talon. His ward's question about his own condition took Artorias off guard for a moment, the wolf pausing to look down at his aching hind leg. There was a low and constant thrum of pain in it, but nothing severe. He'd likely pulled a muscle, and by the time the storm passed, he'd be fine. "I'll be fine, Zeph. It's just a pulled muscle. We'll wait out the storm, I'll rest it, and we'll be good to go once the weather clears up." He fixed the raptor with a reassuring smile, hoping to invigorate some of Zephyr's usual confidence.

Artorias glanced towards the mouth of the cave as a bright flash of lightning illuminated the entryway to the shelter, followed by an earth-shaking clap of thunder. They'd be stuck here for a while, it seemed. If they didn't want to go stir crazy waiting out the storm, they'd need something to keep themselves occupied. But what? Artorias thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with inspiration. "Would you like to hear a story, Zeph?" he asked his adopted son, settling in to lie down and take some of his weight off of his aching leg. "If you're interested, I could tell you the story of our family, the Carpathius family."

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