The Art of War

It didn’t take longer than a few moments after his call went out that Artorias heard rapidly approaching footsteps crunching down the damp morning grass. Turning his head, he greeted his youngest daughter of his first litter with a warm paternal smile, accepting her nuzzle with one of his own in return. He laughed at her comment about him being awake with a lopsided smile. "Yes, much to your mother’s chagrin, I have always been an early riser," he remarked with a cheeky chuckle. Artorias took a moment to admire his daughter, taking in just how much she had grown already. Bramble was easily almost eye level with him and it was apparent his little girl wouldn’t be little much longer! She had a lanky, athletic frame that reminded Art of a young Briar and it seemed that their daughter would be taking after her mother.

Bramble asked what they would be doing today and her sire would not make her wait for an answer. "We’re beginning your Knight training in earnest today," he explained to her with a proud grin on his muzzle. "Mercury has been reporting your progress with him and I’d like to see what you’ve been working on." Rolling his head to stretch his neck and stretching out his back with a limber bow, Art prepared for a little physical training with Bramble. "I’ll let you decide what you’d prefer to do today, Brammie. Would you like a lesson on using agility for offense and defense, or would you like a spar to show off to your old man?" He left the option open to Bramble. However she felt she would learn best, he would cater to her needs.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Eira" | "Argent"