A Pound Of Flesh

The fighting on both sides was ferocious, and although Artorias worried for his son's safety, he also knew that Nelu was no longer a child who needed his father watching over him 24/7. He gave his child the freedom to grow, to show his abilities, and he would be here to respond if things went south. That turned out to be unnecessary though, as with a fierce bite straight to the pup's face, Nelu's fangs rended through flesh, eliciting a scream of pain from the Raider boy. Artorias' shoulders tensed, his fur bristling at the awful cry. He instantly knew that Nelu had won and all he hoped for now was that the maim on the boy hadn't been too severe. The Raider pup spat and cursed, wiping at the blood flowing liberally from his new wound. Nelu remained as stoic as ever, maintaining his cool disposition all the while. When his son's eyes turned back to him, Artorias offered him a proud nod of approval. Though he hated when matters came to violence at their doorstep, this had been brought on by the Raider and he had earned his just rewards. Nelu had successfully defended their home and he was very proud of his boy.

But now would be a good opportunity to teach Nelu a valuable lesson—a lesson about mercy. It was a lesson his own late mother had taught him as a yearling as well. Artorias whistled for Corbin, his raven swooping down to alight on his shoulders as the dire wolf spoke a quiet order to the bird. Corbin took to the air again and swooped into Hearthstone while Artorias approached the two younger wolves. "Bună treabă, fiule. You did well and protected our home," he congratulated his son, leaning in to press an affectionate snoot boop against Nelu's forehead. His son was getting so big now, Art didn't even have to lean down anymore.

Then the Lord of Cinder's attention turned to the injured Raider. Artorias stepped up to the boy, looking over the laceration on his face. Thankfully, he could see the pup's eye still intact, so Nelu hadn't caused irreparable damage to him. "All are welcome in the Hallows—so long as you come in peace," Artorias sternly informed Tarnish, making sure to emphasize the latter part. Corbin returned then with a damp cloth clutched in his beak. Artorias took the cloth and offered it to the injured pup. In any other case, he would have simply started triaging the boy on his own, but given that he still looked like a pissed off wolverine, he opted to be cautious. "Will you let me help you or are you going to insist on more bloodshed?" The choice was left up to Tarnish. Artorias would not turn the bleeding half-blind pup away if he needed aid, but his mercy only went so far.

"Artorias Carpathius"