The finer details

It had been a couple of seasons since his brith now, and though Charlton had found interest in the different lands outside of the Armada, he had found a keener interest in something he’d seen his siblings and those in the Hallows sharpening. Fighting. He liked seeing how the other wolves moved, sometimes coordinating with her companions to do more damage. He took interest in seeing the different sorts of armors and weapons that were available. The different sizes and shapes. His mother had left him some armor. He was almost afraid to put it on, and potentially ruin it… but what good was armor if it wasn’t worn?

His father had selected him to spend time with today, and Charlie happily obliged. After the loss of his mother, the boy made a promise to himself to enjoy every moment he could with his family. As they moved towards their destination Sirius spoke to him, and Charlie’s eyes lit up. Him? Make a weapon? A weapon of his own, one he would care for and carry with him. Coupled with the piece of armor his mother left him, he would start to look like a real warrior. Then, as he worked on his skills, he could be someone that the Armada was proud of. He puffed out his chest a little bit, an eager shine appearing in his eyes. “Yes sir!”

As they reached the smithy Sirius said the first step was to design it. Considering the type of weapon that he could utilize. Charlie furrowed his brow, immediately going into thought. He’d seen swords and daggers, easy-to-use, lighter-weight weapons that could strike fast and leave cuts. But what he had in mind was something different. He glanced up at his father.

“I’m not sure what it’s called, but I saw it when I was passing by Artorias’ armory in the Hallows. It had a longer handle, and it was thicker, something I could hold in my mouth and grip without fear of it breaking. At the end the metal thickened, taking on a ball-like shape, and sharp edges jutted out of it. It would be something I could use to take advantage of my strength, swinging it to bash into opponents and perhaps stunning them.” His gaze lit up. Little did the boy know what he had just described was a mace.

"Speech," 'Thought.'