I'm gonna make you wish that you’d stayed gone

Set immediately after the Norad exile...

Anger was the fuel that drove the obsidian and sapphire brute forward out of Hallowed lands and into the domain of what had once been their friends. Fury burned like coal in a train engine in his core, smoldering in amber eyes as he led his group through the gap of unclaimed space between their lands and what had once been Norad. The Aegis marched with purpose, determination in every stride. He knew there was only so much he could do in this situation, but gods be damned, he was going to do as much as he could to mitigate this wrong where he could. He would not sit idly by while another good pack fell to the scum of the earth. With his Commander and Councilor at his side, the Aegis led the way straight up to the borders of what had once been a friendly pack, stopping just short of the scent markers that defined the borders. Already the acrid smell of fresh piss was starting to cover up the scents of Beauregard and his family—and above it all, the familiar and revolting stench of Sephiran Saxe hung in the air, mixed with about a dozen other stinks blended in. Artorias' nose crinkled up in disgust. Fucking mongrels, all of them...

Piercing eyes scanned through the trees as he sought out any movement, any signs of life or presence of the invaders. They could not simply waltz into the lands without declaring war on the group, and they had no just cause to do so. As much as he liked Beauregard, Norad had not been an official ally, and thus the Hallows would be the unjust aggressors in any counter invasion. As much as Artorias detested Sephiran, there were still laws of nature that had to be observed. The scents of the intruders was still strong, and since it had only been a short time since the Norad wolves had fled these woods, it was a safe assumption to believe they were still here. Not getting any immediate signs of the invaders, Artorias looked back at his friends and spoke to them in hushed tones for their ears alone, "We are here to draw lines, not to spill blood. But do not hold back if they turn to violence first." He had shown too much mercy to Sephiran already.

Artorias threw his head back and let loose a goading howl, demanding Sephiran make himself known. If the egotistical bastard didn't take the bait, then he was an even bigger cad and coward than he expected. But Artorias doubted that he would back down from a direct challenge to his "authority". Then he waited, claws scratching at the loamy earth as sharp eyes scoured the trees for signs of the boy king.

"Artorias Carpathius"