fly so high that i need to come down for oxygen

The tale began and Zephyrus allowed himself to get lost in his father's words, the story a calm comfort against the muted sounds of the not-so-distant storm raging out the doorway. As Artorias spoke, the avian's imagination drew scenery and pictures, even blurry assumptions of how a wolf might have looked or what sort of life they had led. Imagining himself flying high above the snowcapped peaks and looking down upon the towering forests below, wondering how different that existence might have been to the castle he was so accustomed to and fond of. The knowledge of where his father's name had come and what it translated to felt like truth deep in his air-filled bones - strong as the rock, his family was. It was indisputable, even with only the short near-year he'd now spent with them. In that strength was tragedy and blood, having even taken his grandmother before he had the chance to meet her. The bird's plumage shrunk, his throat and beak lowering to rest upon the stone floor with a gentle clack as his father's sigh echoed through the cavern.

The foundations of the Hallows was next and as Zephyr had always vehemently thought, his wolves were protectors. A flash of annoyance crossed his gaze as he thought of the splotched wolf Hattori who had insisted otherwise of his sanctuary. From his grandmother's dream a pack was born, a place where all could come for safety, protection, and peace. Zephyr took great pride in the knowledge, a tickle of excitement pricking at his plumage as he imagined what role he would one day play in that dream. The next bit of knowledge was surprising - Artorias and his siblings were not of Carpathius blood? Questions swam in his mind, but the story was not yet done and interjecting did not feel appropriate. It did however make the rest of the tale harder to focus on as Zephyr considered again and again that he was not the only adopted member of the family (and in fact, that no member he had met was truthfully born to the bloodline.)

As Artorias' story came to an end, Zephyr's focus grew stronger. Emotion flooded through the young bird, enhanced by the experience in the storm and the feelings that had come from failing. Blinking hard he managed to keep composure, up until the end where his father offered to him a gift. A name, a forever place in the family he had found. His beak quivered, his third eyelid working overtime to keep at bay the liquid that threatened to spill. "I want it.. more than anything. Thank you. Thank you very, very much." Zephyr croaked. Each word of his response had taken careful thought and consideration, a habit the talkative bird was not quite accustomed to. Tentatively he pushed himself to his talons and stood, idling quietly in the low-light. He had so many questions, but none were as pressing as the one stuck upon his beak. "Can.. can you teach me? Carpathian?"

"Zephyr"