little talks

The cold winter was foreign to Auster, but not to Artorias. He remembered the ice age of yore, back when he had been but a yearling during the Hallows' first year of existence. Hopefully this would not be a repeat of that dreadful time. He knew how to care for his wolves and his home through the cold season though—fires were kept burning in the castle's many hearths round the clock, windows were buffered with thick curtains to keep out drafts, and hot meals and drinks were readily available to rejuvenate those who spent time out in the snow. The Hallows had endured and survived many a winter before; they would survive another one without issue.

Artorias was refueling the fire in the Grand Hearth with some fresh logs when Bellatrix's call came in for him. The familiar voice perked the Lord of Cinder's ears, pleasantly surprised by her visit. He hadn't seen Bellatrix since the fall of Norad and was glad to see she was still alive. After replenishing the fire with fresh wood, Artorias threw on his cloak and stepped out into the snowy world outside. A light flurry of snow had begun to fall from the heavy gray clouds overhead, adding fresh powder to the already thick blanket of white that covered the land. Bellatrix's violet form stood out vividly against the blank white canvas of snow at the edge of his borders. Art approached the tiny wolf, his dark form also standing in contrast with the clean white snow, and as he came near he smiled at her.

"It's good to see you again, Bellatrix. Welcome back. I hope you and your family are well," he greeted his unexpected guest, warm amber eyes moving from her over to her reindeer companion and the cages containing the fowl attached to him. A brow raised curiously. "I'm guessing there's an official purpose to your visit, hmm?"

"Artorias" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Eira" | "Argent"