Not like the others

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Artorias' lips when the little fighter pup went still as he spoke, then turned to face his general direction as she replied. Her tiny nose twitched, sampling his scent and seeming to consider him not a threat. Kite gave him her nickname, then asked if she could call him Art. The older wolf chuckled and smiled. "Yes, you can call me Art," he said, his tail wagging in the simple joy of getting to interact with a pup. The Hallows hadn't seen younglings since his own litter had been born, and with his own children on the way, it was like a glimpse into what his future would soon be like.

Kite asked if he was here with her sister Briar, and Artorias gave a little nod, only to remember that she couldn't see him right now and flinched at his own folly. "That's right. We came all this way so we could meet you and your siblings!" It wasn't every day a pack had a new litter of princes and princesses born to it, after all, and even rarer were creatures like Kite and Vantoase. Glancing down the little girl's legs to her shiny new bracers, the Aegis said, "Those look like some fine new bracers. Are you practicing for some future battles?" It didn't come as a surprise that the children of the former Warlord were learning to become fighters. It seemed like Sirius' M.O. was to breed an army all of his own.

"Artorias"