old dogs and new tricks

Guilt and shame were everyday emotions for the once proud man. Guilt that he had made his women and children homeless. Guilt that he had dissolved Fenmyre, thus making The Hallows less safe in the process. Shame at having been weak enough that he’d been forced to abandon all and leave. All of it… perhaps it was the universe's way of bringing the giant man down a peg. Reminding him that he was indeed mortal. Funny to think that, when he was a child, Chimera believed himself to be a god.

Amends needed to be made and so the black and white brute was on his way to The Hallows to speak with Artorias. Sure, he could have just hidden away in Ashen and never come out to acknowledge his failings ever again, but that wasn’t the kind of man that Chimera was. Despite his less than savory views on the world, the wolf had a sort of code. It didn’t feel right to just let things lay as they were. He needed to speak to his friend face to face.

On his way to the castle, Chimera took his time. Though he was no longer suffering from the illness that had struck him low, he still had some recovering to do. His strength wasn’t at full par and he was thin, so his gait was leisurely. He stopped often to rest and had decided to do so in the grove that he’d passed through so many times. Shock struck the man as a familiar scent hit dappled nares. Long legs led him through the trees until his pale, pink eye landed upon the vision of a ghost. He hadn’t seen his mother since her displacement years ago. He hadn’t even known that she was still alive.

Chimera wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the woman these days. She hadn’t been a good mother at all. He’d hated her for quite some time in his youth. That hatred wasn’t there anymore. Deathbelle was a stranger to him. What could he even say to her other than her name? “Deathbelle,” the brute greeted her, simply because they were forced to acknowledge one another’s presence.


"Chimera Klein"