That's Gonna Leave a Mark

The stranger introduced himself as Sitri of the Klein and Destruction families. Artorias had never heard of the Destructions before, but he knew the Kleins well. This was not one of their brood he knew. Sitri explained he was Venom's nephew, which at least kept him from being mauled on sight. But nephew didn't necessitate a direct connection to his friend, and he didn't know anything about Sitri or his lineage, so caution would be exercised with this stranger for now. The red and white wolf went on to explain where he had found Dusk, what condition she had been in, and what had happened to her. Artorias could only close his eyes, rub his furrowing brow, and heave a sigh. Why were his daughters always picking fights they couldn't win?! Well, hopefully Dusk will have learned a very valuable lesson from this mess. Now he just had to make sure his child survived.

Artorias was only half listening to Sitri's words before he was already beckoning the younger brute to follow him, leading the way down the east wing towards the infirmary. He knew he'd be disturbing Gwynevere from her sleep, but he had no choice. Howling for Gwynevere with an urgency that shook the castle's very walls, Art led Sitri to the infirmary and kicked the doors in, gesturing to the nearest bed while he hurried to grab some bandages from the supply cabinets. He was no healer, but a lifetime of combat had given Artorias enough knowledge in emergency triage to be able to apply wound dressings and administer basic first aid. "Put her down there." Artorias returned to Dusk's side and immediately began to inspect her wounds, grimacing and growling with frustration as he saw the state his child was in. "Gods dammit all, Dusk... Why are you just like me?"

While they waited for Gwynevere to arrive to take over, Artorias began to use swaths of cloth to clean away Dusk's wounds, gently shaking her every so often to try and bring her back to consciousness. The Aegis was acutely aware of the Klein boy looming off to his side, but paid him no mind. "Are you hurt, Sitri?" he asked, his tone hard yet measured, clearly trying to keep himself stable in this moment of crisis.

"Artorias Carpathius"