Stretch those legs

To say that Artorias was proud of the progress Laeta had made in her recovery would have been a gross understatement. The older woman had refused to let the world beat her down, her indomitable spirit shown in her steely gaze every time they paused for a break and she picked herself right back up to keep on going. Laeta could not be defeated; it was a striking example of how Artorias wanted all his wolves to feel. Indestructible and powerful. Today would be their way of celebrating that strength of her spirit as well as her body, proving to herself and to the world that she was far from done.

Artorias meandered through the lush undergrowth of the ravine while Lae sniffed about, taking in the dense woodland that surrounded them on all sides. There was a sort of mystique to the forest. Artorias could see why Eligos had chosen this land as his own once upon a time. Quietly, the Aegis wondered what had happened to the Aerie alpha and his wolves. More and more lately, it seemed like packs were growing and fading right before his very eyes. Yet still, the world turned, and life marched onward, neither slowing nor ceasing for anyone. It was a sobering thought to realize and come to terms with—the fact that they were all mortal, and that no matter how much you put into something, nothing lasts forever. Artorias stepped up to a nearby tree, gazing over its ancient bark and noticed a few claw marks left on its surface, most likely from one of the wolves that had lived here some time ago. He lifted an azure paw and rested it over the scratches, a wistful melancholy coming over him. Would the Hallows one day fade from existence as well?

Laeta spoke aloud, giving voice to her inner thoughts. Artorias replied with a soft hum of agreement, leaving the tree to face his companion. "It is," he said assent, lifting his eyes to the heavy canopy of leaves overhead, where golden spring sunlight filtered down in thin rays to the ground below. "It's been a while since I tried to make contact with Aerie. Maybe I should have tried harder." Or maybe nothing he would have done would've made any difference. Life was full of what-ifs like that though, and dwelling on them did no good for anyone. Artorias moved a little further down the verdant ravine, listening to the songbirds in the trees around them, but otherwise hearing nothing in the tranquil spring day. "Mind your step. Some of these trees have thick roots," he called back to Lae, having narrowly avoided tripping over an upturned root himself a moment before.

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