That's Gonna Leave a Mark

If it hadn't been for Dusk still laying limp across his back he would have jumped and instinctively dodged out of the way when heavy paw steps came thundering down a portion of the stairs, the worried and outraged father making a beeline for him as he called Dusk's name. He was too worried about jostling Dusk too much though so he kept still, bracing himself for whatever Art was going to do if anything. Even though he hadn't personally met Artorias yet, he had seen glimpses of him whenever he would visit Ashen from time to time and knew of him well enough just from talk around his family. That didn't mean Art knew who he was, of course, which was evident by the interrogating questions he received about who he was and what happened.

"Sitri Klein-Destruction, Sir," he responded immediately with a quick dip of his head. Any other time he'd probably have some comment or bravado to his introduction, but he was too worried about the girl he was attempting to rescue and not exactly willing to test Artorias' patience in this situation. "I'm Plague's son–Venom's nephew," he added, hoping some familiar names could buy him a bit of credibility. "I found Dusk out in the Wraith's Woods. It looked like she was attacked by a group of wolves. They were all either killed or chased off by the time I got to her," he explained with a quick glance back at the dark–and apparently deadly–ball of wet fluff on his back. "If you'll just point me toward wherever your healers work I'll take her there. She was talking when I found her, but I think she's lost a lot of blood."

"Sitri Klein-Destruction"