Greek Takeover

Indigo hadn’t been a part of the Armada for far longer than the young Warlord had been alive. When the maned man heard the call he felt sentimental and made his way to the battlefield to show his nephew support. In the days following Aslatiel’s death he had been forced to reckon with his past and the days of long gone by. Things seemed so much different then, so much had changed. Especially him. Indigo had been through so much since he left the Armada to train within the Hallows, and he had never gone back for fear of retribution for his feelings. The emotions that he held for his dear sister. The woman who he had considered his other half.

She was gone now, and Indigo was forced to continue on with life without her. To find himself once again and rediscover the man that he could be. None of that was easy for him. Indigo was getting older, changing himself was more difficult than ever. Yet somehow he hd to figure that out and move on.

Huge paws carried him onto the old bloodstained grasses. The smell of fighting thick in the air as heavy as the crowd gathering. Quietly he made his way closer to where Artorias and the wolves of the Hallows gathered, giving his obvious support to the side of his own blood. He had been reclusive for a long time, most of the challengers were complete strangers to him. He ignored the jeers of the upstarts, noting how young the most of them were. Unshaped by the world and its cruelties. He doubted that Basilisk could see him, but he gave a nod of encouragement.

"Indigo Fatalis"