this is home

Artorias smiled and nodded his head to Silas' promise to never forget his home in the Hallows. He knew it was impossible to predict what the future might hold for any of them, as was it impossible for him to expect his entire family to remain in their homelands. Life and fate always had a way of spinning its own threads, writing its own sentences in their books of life. Silas would need to follow his own path and chart his own course. If that path one day led him away from the Hallows, Artorias would of course be heartbroken, but he would be proud of his son—as he would any of his children—and trust in the wolves they grew up to be. Instilling them with the best life lessons and morals he could would be the greatest gift he could give them to prepare them to face the real world. But no matter where they went or how far they traveled, the Hallows and Hearthstone would always be their home.

The question he posed to Silas was answered with surprising depth and insight from the young boy. Silas questioned the fate of the white beast and the reasons behind its slaying. Art cocked his head to one side as he studied the painting with his child, amber eyes following the sunwashed paints over the finer details of the image. "I'm afraid it's impossible for us to know for sure," he surmised with a thoughtful hum. "It's very possible the creature survived the attack and escaped. As for the hunters' reasons... perhaps the creature is a source of food for them, much like how deer are for us. Or perhaps it posed a threat to their homes and they're defending themselves." All plausible answers, yet sadly none more definitive than another. It was up to them to make their own interpretations of what was being presented to them. Art peered down at Silas. "What do you believe the case is...?"

"Artorias" | "Carpathian"