Archelaus wasn't exactly the most exciting of boys. He had no interest in helping the adults and wouldn't even attempt to follow them on some sort of hunting excursion or mimic the spars to convince himself and anyone else that he could fight. When he was ready to attempt those things, when the need arose for them he would do well he was an Armada.
Instead his days were full of rather dull events that didn't really bear the need for any mention at all. Here in particular the days passed by so dull that even Archie was growing a little bored. He missed the North, the wonderful life he'd had in Regium. So it hadn't been perfect really, there had been plenty of troubles there but it had been home, this place was still strange to him.
Truth be told he of course shared the pain the rest of his family felt for the matter. Their Aunt had died and the pack and family they knew had all suddenly dispersed. It was nice to think it meant that the Armadas were spreading throughout Alacritis, everyone would soon know of them but he still much preferred the idea of them all being together in the Northern lands he had been born in. He wouldn't admit this sadness, this homesickness and instead would continue on yet another walk around the lands hiding any such emotions from anyone.