At the beginning

Artorias met his mother's wistful smile with one of his own. "Yeah, I know... I think she'd be happy for how things turned out though." He understood how it felt to be back here, though maybe not as intimately as she did. This had been his first ever home, the place he had been born, but this had been so much more to Tamsyn. This was where the Hallows had been formed with her and Resin, the place where she had carried and birthed him and his siblings, the place she had planned to live forever with her mate. Life had a way of changing plans, however, and while their paths may not have been exactly what they'd hoped for or planned, Artorias liked to think they'd all done well in the end.

Leading Tamsyn up the sloping path along the side of the cliff to the top of the falls, the pair of wolves eventually reached the summit where their old family den sat by the water. Up here, the views of Boreas stretched on for miles. The sight transported Artorias back in time, back to when he was a small pup looking out over this massive world and planning to see it all. A little smile played on the edges of Art's lips, and he offered his side to Tamsyn while they sat together looking out over their world and their former home. For a while, Artorias didn't say anything. He just sat there, drinking in the scenic landscapes of Boreas in winter, letting the memories come back to him like leaves flowing down a gentle stream. Then he glanced over to his mother at his side.

Tamsyn still looked exactly the way he'd always known her. Sure, maybe she had more silver and gray in amongst her black fur, but she was still very much his mother. Nothing about the older wolf's personality had changed or shifted. She'd retained her mind, her spirit, her memory. But time was beginning to take its toll on her body. Her energy waned day to day, she moved slower and more deliberate, and she no longer ran patrols or took adventures anywhere. At some point, she had hit her lasts of all the things she once did effortlessly. It was the curse of time and age, and although Art knew this was the natural cycle of things, that didn't make it any easier for him to watch. His mother was his hero, and seeing your heroes show their mortality was a hard thing to process.

After a few moments, Art gently leaned his side against his mother's, pressing against her the way he used to do when he was much littler. He tried to ignore the melancholy thoughts lingering at the back of his mind to prevent them from ruining their trip together. "Mom," he finally said to break the quiet, looking down to her with a gentle smile and loving amber eyes. "Thank you..."

"Talk" | "Carpathian"