Look Da, no hands!

Artorias was a very loving and affectionate father. He doted on his children and showered them with endless affection. That was why Kea was clever to recognize that the stern expression that overtook his sire was a signal that things were not as they should be. No matter the peril though, he would never allow any harm to befall his son. This would be a good moment to introduce the boy to the realities of being a warrior, of what it meant to fight and take life for the right causes. Tigers had nearly taken his half-sister's life and had grievously wounded his nephew-in-law. He knew all too well the dangers they posed, especially to a pack so full of young pups. Kea confirmed that he recognized the smell, but couldn't place it to anything. That didn't surprise Artorias. Ciaran had never encountered a real, live tiger before.

"That's the smell of a tiger," the sire explained to his son, those hardened eyes still slowly roving over the grasses that swayed in the wind around them. They were downwind of the tiger, that much he knew, but where it was would be anyone's guess. It was deathly silent out on the plains, only the distant roil of waves on the shore keeping the world from being soundless. Artorias shifted his stance, his cuirass moving with him and sword shifting on his back. Art turned his gaze down to Kea to give him the information he needed to know. "The easiest way to spot a tiger is to look for their distinctive orange color. They're striped, so they hide themselves amongst tall grass to ambush their prey. If you're keen-eyed, you can pick them out before they spot you. We're downwind of this one, so we'll need to move into the wind to track it down. Look for sections of crushed grass, feline tracks, anything to lead you to it."

Artorias nodded to Ciaran, then motioned with his head forward. "Why don't you take the lead tracking it, little Knight? I'll be right beside you." Though his parental instincts wanted to protect Kea, Artorias also knew that coddling his son would teach him nothing. If Ciaran was to learn what battle was truly like, he would need to experience it for himself whenever he could. Artorias remembered the fights he shared with Resin against hyenas, saber cats, and paleo dire wolves. They had made him into the man he was today. They would help shape Ciaran as well.

"Artorias Carpathius"