Artorias was on the hunt. It had taken some time, but his tenacity had paid off. Searching for clues to the whereabouts of his sister's attacker around the Cedar Falls had been a fruitless endeavor; too much time had passed since the attack to find anything useful. However, thanks to Corbin covering most of Auster with his flights, he had been able to interview a few lone wolves around the continent. One eventually confirmed they had seen a wolf matching the description of Gwynevere's assailant heading north back to Boreas. That was all the information Artorias needed. He wasted no time rushing up to Boreas. He didn't even stop by the castle to grab his armor or any backup, carrying Embershard on his back as he always did. He'd sent Argent back to the castle to inform Ulric of where he was going and kept Corbin with him for an aerial search, but otherwise he was going into battle with nothing more than his wits, his training, and the sword his mother had entrusted him with.

It took another day of searching southern Boreas before he finally found another wolf that had seen his target headed across the prairies northbound just a couple of days ago. Artorias had scoured the prairies and valleys, but found nothing beneath the snow that covered Boreas. Worse still, his trail had gone cold again. Scowling, Artorias continued to push north in hopes of spotting the brute or finding another clue, and eventually ended up at the banks of the massive river that carved through Boreas. The river still flowed freely despite the frigid temperatures, its rippling waters babbling melodically in the otherwise silent winter day. Artorias' paws crunched through the snow while he walked up to the river's edge, muzzle dipping to get a drink of the cool water. He recoiled a little when his tongue touched the water. Correction: get a drink of the bitter cold water. At least he had the peace of mind knowing that he wouldn't be attacked by the man from the water this time. It was far too cold for any aquatic ambushes.

Stepping away from the river, Artorias tried to gather his bearings while he walked through the trees that lined each riverbank. Corbin swooped and circled overhead, keeping his keen eyes open for his young master down below. It had almost become a game of hide and seek now, with the monster hiding and Artorias hunting. This was one game he was determined to win, and he would return home with the bastard's head as a trophy.

"Artorias"

When you were as old and as experienced as Oxx was in the field of hunting, espionage, etc. it didn't take much to realize when someone was looking for you. It wasn't even upsetting to have someone hunted him because, honestly, it was far from the first time. When your own father hunts you down with the intent to kill you, everything else is childsplay. When the one hunting you really was a child, it just became comical.

Oxx had tailed the boy that was tailing him. He had spoken to the same wolves that the blue child had spoken to. It was a fun little game and everyone knew that Oxx loved games. As he followed, he imagined that the boy was getting more and more discouraged. Goody, goody!

Though he'd grown a bit, Oxx recognized the black and blue boy immediately. One of his darling little siblings. It was nice that family wanted to come and play with him, but it was getting old. The time had come for Oxx to make himself known. The game was fun, but all things had culminated to this point, might as well pop the cork.

As the boy was wetting his tongue in the river, the massive brute parted from the tree line. "Fine day, isn't it?" Smooth tones crossed the distance between them as Oxx stood behind the boy. The giants legs were splayed comfortably and it was clear that he was entirely at ease. This child could do nothing to him if he tried. Originally he thought that perhaps the boy just wanted to come and beg for mommy's skin to be returned. That was before he saw the sword and the determination in the kids face. It was cute, really. So young. So angry. So much fun!

The shark-like brute stood there, his wide maw split in a grin. One paw rose to idly flick the shrunken paw of their mother back and forth, because why wouldn't he wear the skin of their mother to their first official meeting? "I heard you were looking for me. Did you enjoy all of the hoops you had to jump through?" Dance, little doggy. Dance.

"Oxx Carpathius"

Oxx is insanely mature and is prone to
violence,
sexual acts
and degradation of women.
Please don't read his threads.

The wintery ground betrayed the massive brute's stealth, the crunch of snow beneath heavy paws making Artorias' ears flick back to catch the subtle sound. His head snapped around to face... by the gods, what was he facing?! It was a wolf, a gargantuan brute as tall and muscled as Ulric or Sirius. The wolf was clothed in a coat of dark slate and snow white, with dappled charcoal markings along his back and tail. Cold, empty slate eyes leered at him, and his smile showed off those deadly serrated teeth. There was no doubt; this was the wolf he was hunting. Dammit! This was the second time he'd been caught off guard stalking one of his supposed older siblings! First Eska, now this bastard. And he hadn't even worn his armor this time to give him away! Artorias silently cursed that Resin had never taught him the art of moving unseen, since her other children appeared to be ninjas.

As intimidating at the other wolf looked, that wasn't what gave Artorias reason to pause. It was the dried husk of his mother's sun draped over the large brute's back like a macabre cloak, hanging limp and lifeless and completely horrific. The brute batted one of Resin's limp paws around like a wave, and Artorias bared his teeth in a vicious growl. Rage burned in his burnt amber eyes. This was all a joke to this wolf, but it didn't matter. Artorias knew he was still mortal, he could still bleed, and he could die. Artorias didn't respond to the wolf's greeting, nor his mocking remarks of the effort it took to find him. He was too focused on his opponent, mentally preparing himself for the fight that was to come. This would be his first real fight, and a fight to the death. He could not lose.

Artorias nodded to Corbin, who took to the air to keep himself out of the fray. He would be the backup plan, to fly south to fetch his family if the battle went awry and Artorias needed medical aid afterwards. The thought of him losing wasn't even a possibility in the young brute's mind. His cause was just and his skills were honed. This monster would die today. "What did my mother call you, besides a mistake?" he asked the behemoth with the edge of a growl in his voice. "I want to know what name to give my sister when I place your head at her feet." Artorias' paws flexed against the ground, clawing at the snow and frozen earth. His muscles were tensed, his nerves electrified and ready to respond. Embershard lay just within reach; a quick turn of his head and he'd draw his blade. Then there would be blood.

"Artorias"

Oxx noted the bird flying off and chuckled aloud, giving his wide shoulders a little wiggle. "Fly, fly, little bird. This child is going to need some help." The boys thoughts would have been terribly amusing to Oxx. That a child thought he could be some sort of match with a seasoned tracker and killer. It was comical. Somehow, that grin widened as dark, lifeless eyes looked upon the vibrant child. "Just like his sweet sister." Oxx seated himself on the crispy ground, lifting one paw to make a show of inspecting his claws. "How is the little beauty? She was a little damp the last time I saw her." Get it? He'd thrown her in a river. It was funny.

The boy asked for his name, attempting to sling insults and Oxx snorted softly. "Oh, I assure you that mother dear loved me. I probably could have walked right up to her and slit her throat." Reaching up, he feigned a loving stroke of his mother's shriveled cheek. "Pity she went and died before I could. Oh well. Dead is dead. Isn't she a great cape, by the way? Grey really is my color." Oxx posed, making a show of the fact that he wore their mother around his neck, her sunken face resting between his ears. "Ah, but you asked for my name, which I'll tell you even though it's rude for your elders to give their names first. Bad manners, boy." Oxx tapped the side of his nose with one pad before continuing. "Oxx Carpathius. The only true Carpathius left alive."

More empty threats were given and once more Oxx snorted. "I know you didn't get your brains from my mother. She would have been attacking already. That's what happens when you're adopted. A pity child. You can claim that she was your mother, but you're just a knock off, you know? You and all of your siblings." Reaching up once more, Oxx gave his mother's skin a little knock. "You got soft, old woman."

Rising to his paws, Oxx shook out his big body, loosening his muscles. The skin of his mother danced upon his back as he did so. "Are we going to do this or are you going to keep babbling?" The behemoth gave his head an overexaggerated tilt, his grin slowly widening. He was ready to taste this boys blood.

"Speech"

Artorias snorted while he fixed the older brute with murderous eyes. His intent to be intimidating failed; Artorias was not scared by the pompous, puffed up edgelord. He was only a couple inches taller, a little more muscled, and a far cry older. What he lacked in experience, Artorias had in spirit and youth, and that was what gave him confidence to square up against the wolf who resembled death incarnate without fear. He had been fine letting the wolf's insults glance off of him without reaction, despite the vengeful fire raging in his soul, but the moment Oxx mentioned Gwyn, Artorias' anger began to show. Fiery eyes narrowed further, teeth bared from behind snarling lips. He didn't respond, refusing to give the wolf any sort of answer to satisfy his questions. He would not be complicit in this game.

The behemoth made some remark about Resin loving him and trusting him implicitly, making some off hand comment about how easy it would have been to kill her. "Loved you so much that she never even mentioned you," he retorted. He knew words would do no good to hurt the wicked brute, but it made him feel a little better. He wanted to unleash his rage on this wretch. The way he posed like some sort of fucked up model with his mother's skin over his back made Artorias' stomach churn, and he made a commitment to give Resin the proper funeral rites when he took her skin back from this bastard's cooling corpse. The wolf tried to chide him on his manners for asking his name first, but Artorias was beyond the point of caring. This wolf meant nothing to him. He deserved no respect and no formalities, only the justice he would receive at the end of Art's sword.

Oxx Carpathius. That was the name of his nemesis. "We can fix that real quick," snarled Artorias as the wolf deigned himself the last "true" Carpathius. "Now I know why she never spoke about you. You're a disgrace, an embarrassment to her name. No wonder she forgot about you." Artorias tensed his body more, the coil ready to explode forth. "Least I know she picked me and didn't give me up." If anything, the fact that he was adopted was more of an insult to Oxx than anything. Resin chose him, chose his siblings. Her little knight, she'd called him. She left him in her past for dead. Oxx continued to mess with Resin's skin, and Artorias snarled again. If he didn't stop doing that shit, he was going to take that paw first and leave the wolf to bleed out in the snow. Maybe he'd do it anyway.

Oxx didn't ask for his name, not that it mattered, since he'd be dead in a few minutes anyway, and got to his paws to begin their fight. Artorias scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You talked more than me." Grasping the hilt of Embershard in his jaws, Artorias drew his sword with a smooth rasp of metal on leather. The familiar weight of his weapon in his grasp brought the young brute a sense of power and safety. His mother was watching over him. She had prepared him for this, armed him for such an occasion. Now he would make her proud.

Artorias began the fight, launching himself towards Oxx like a missile as his tensed legs kicked off the ground in a flurry of snow. He ran straight for the brute, narrowed eyes focused on where he aimed to swing: the man's neck. He used his speed and smaller size to his advantage, leaping at an angle to Oxx's side with a flourish of his blade aimed straight for his throat. He could end this fight in one swing if he kept himself agile and around Oxx's side. Embershard was lethal, and all it would take was one good slice.

"Artorias"

While the boy was busy with thoughts of vengeance and readying his bulky, stupid weapon. Oxx was doing something much more simple. His big paw had pressed down hard into the snow below it. The warmth of his pads had made the white powder sticky and pliable. Words continued to spew out of the kids yapping maw and Oxx... Oxx made a snowball. Just a simple snowball. What was he going to do with that snowball? The kid was about to find out.

As the sword wielding toddler ran towards him, Oxx lifted his big paw and chucked the ball of icy snow right at that black and blue face. The snow and ice would crack right into the little man's eyes and, with the force of the blow, it wouldn't exactly feel like tickles. Oxx would be surprised if the little bastard didn't have a black eye after all of this.

What fun would it be to just throw a snowball? This was a game and Oxx was determined to win. Once his aim struck true, the massive brute merely sidestepped the swing of the sword, then slammed his massive chest against that of the boy, hooking the youths legs with one white speckled paw to bring him to the ground. More than once Oxx slammed his forehead against the boy's cheek and muzzle, forcing him to drop the sword. Possibly giving him a bloody nose. Or was that Oxx's own blood? While headbutting the little brat, the sword had made a nice little slice in Oxx's cheek. Oh well.

Kicking the sword way out of reach, Oxx placed a paw on the boys throat and applied the entire weight of his front half to it. "What did you think you were coming here to do? You're still a pup. A little baby. Against me, you are nothing." Oxx snarled out that last word, his tail curling high over his spine as he pushed down harder on the captured throat. "Do you want proof of just how helpless you are against me?" Oxx's growl had died down to a sweet purr.

Rolling the boy and sinking his teeth into the back of the young brute's neck, Oxx slammed him down onto his stomach, positioned his giant frame overtop of the black and blue wolf, aaaaand...

-fade fade fade fade fade fade fade-

After his complete show of dominance, Oxx gave a little shudder of satisfaction. Was the lesson learned? He hoped so. Now, Oxx was no dummy. He knew that something like this should light a fire of determination under this young wolf's tail. He knew that here was a possibility that the boy would come back bigger, better, more skilled. Honestly, that's what he was counting on. Life was boring sometimes and it might be nice to have someone gunning for him for once. The game to end all games. Ah... such a nice thought. Then again... the boy could totally disappoint him. Turn into a tuck-tailed little pussy and never leave the protective walls of his castle again. Hmmph. No.

"You know," he began, still standing over the smaller brute. "I think I'm going to let you live with the humiliation that you've just suffered. You deserve that, right?" Again, Oxx latched his teeth into the boy's flesh, grabbing him by the neck and shoulder to drag him across the icy, rocky ground. No doubt some of those rocks could have cut the kid up pretty badly, but Oxx obviously didn't care. He pulled the black and blue wolf to a rocky outcropping that hung over the quickly rushing river. Dropping him on the very edge, Oxx lowered his muzzle until it was next to the boys head. "I'll be seeing you, kid. I'm keeping the sword though." And with that, he gave the young brute a rough kick to the ribs, sending him over the edge and into the drink. What happened to the boy now was up to him and whatever gods watched over him. Not really caring for the sword, Oxx took the hilt between his teeth and dropped it point-first into the river. Hopefully it would get lodged in the bottom and the ice and snow would consume it.

With a smile and a little hmmph of accomplishment, Oxx turned and began prancing back towards where his few belongings were stashed. The skin of his mother bounced jovially upon his head with each step. "It was a very good day, wasn't it, mother dear?" The behemoth chuckled to himself as he moved back into the trees without another thought to the boy who may or may not be dead.

"Speech"

Artorias expected some sort of counter maneuver from Oxx. He expected a dodge, a parry, something to keep him on his toes and the fight moving. What he hadn't been expecting was a snowball to the face. When he was much too close to stop his charge, the ball of ice and snow flew directly into the left side of his face, stinging at his eye from the impact and making him yelp in surprise. Blinded temporarily, Artorias could only feel when his sword failed to make contact with any sort of flesh, swinging wildly through the air to no effect. Before he could try to regain his poise, the force of the brute's massive body collided with his side and a powerful foreleg swept his own paws out from underneath him. Artorias hit the cold, unforgiving ground with a grunt and a dull pain in his side, the force just enough to clear the snow and ice from his eye so he could see the moment Oxx's skull came down to meet his in a painful head butt.

Another yelp left the young brute under his "brother's" assault, trying desperately to swing his sword for the other wolf's face. Stars exploded before Artorias' eye with each merciless blow, each one rattling his skull so hard that his sword went tumbling from his jaws no matter how hard he tried to hold on. Something warm and wet splattered across his muzzle, and Artorias realized it was blood. But whether it was from the slice he'd managed to make on Oxx's cheek or the trails of blood streaming from his own nose, he couldn't tell. Disarmed and on the ground, Artorias could put up no fight as his ruthless opponent kicked Embershard away and pinned him to the ground with a massive paw on his throat. Weight pressed down on his windpipe, and Art immediately began to kick and thrash, choking and gasping for breath while he clawed at Oxx's leg, trying too cause enough damage with his claws to make him yield so he could breathe. Instinctual primal panic took over Artorias' brain when he realized he was on the losing end of a deathmatch. Oxx had him dead to rights, and if he didn't break free soon, in a matter of minutes he would be nothing more than a corpse.

Oxx chided and ridiculed him, called him a baby, nothing to him. The paw on his throat pressed down harder, fully restricting his airflow and nearly crushing his trachea. Art wheezed with panicked, desperate eyes searching for a way out while hind legs kicked and scrabbled at the ground. He could feel his heartbeat pounding at the inside of his skull, the world beginning to spin and shift in and out of focus as oxygen deprivation began to take its toll, sapping the strength and life from him. Just before he blacked out totally, he heard Oxx purr out a sick, seductive threat, but the boy didn't realize what was going on until Oxx had already rolled him onto his stomach. Artorias gasped and swallowed a deep breath of air—only to have that breath released as a cry of pain when serrated fangs sunk into the back of his neck. The feeling of his flesh rending beneath those steak knives of teeth was entirely foreign, as was the warm flow of his blood spilling down the back his neck. It was only once Artorias felt Oxx's massive frame over his did he understand what the sadistic fuck had meant, and his fighting began anew, struggling and kicking against Oxx's hold on him, despite tearing his flesh more on the brute's teeth. No no no no no no no no no...! And then Artorias screamed.

- fade fade fade faaaaaaaaaaaaaade -

Artorias lay limp across the frigid snowy ground once Oxx had finished dominating him in totality, amber eyes staring out into space as he tried to catch his breath and reorient himself. Pain had completely consumed his body, most notably from the bites on the back of his neck and the aching beneath his tail. He felt and looked a mess, blood and other fluids soaking through his fur and matting it into an unkempt mess. Artorias wanted to get back up and fight, to keep going at Oxx with everything he had, but his body just felt broken and exhausted. A flash of silver in the snow just ahead of him caught his attention. His sword! If he could just reach it, he might stand a chance still!

Oxx began to speak, that voice sickening him to his core while he said he would let him live after enduring the humiliation he just had. Artorias didn't respond to him, instead grunting as he tried to pull himself across the ground toward his fallen weapon—only to feel those razor sharp teeth carve through his neck and shoulder again, making the young brute cry out in pain and growl. Artorias was dragged unceremoniously away from his sword, watching his only lifeline get further and further away. The hope inside him died as his soft underbelly scraped against rocks and ice, cutting him up and bruising him a bit until Oxx deposited him on an outcropping over the rapidly flowing river. Artorias glanced down at the icy waters below and felt a thrill of fear when he understood what was about to happen. Oxx brought his muzzle down to his ear, whispered his goodbyes, then said he was keeping the sword.

That brought Artorias back to life, who snarled and swung a paw up towards Oxx's face, but instead only received a harsh kick to the side and groaned in pain, then shouted out in horror as he went careening over the ledge and down into the arctic waters. Hitting the surface felt like a million knives hitting his skin all at once, it was so painful. Then came the cold. The frigid water sapped almost all of Artorias' strength in and instant, leaving the wolf limp and flailing uselessly as he was swept away down the Rio Grande. He paddled desperately at the water to try and keep himself afloat, narrowly avoiding a rock jutting out of the water, only to end up slamming into another one with a groan. Down and down he went, the current pulling him under a few times only for Artorias to reemerge coughing and sputtering. He was a prisoner to the river's mercy, and just like Oxx, the river showed him no mercy.

Keeping his head above water became his only task, and even that felt like a chore. More than once the river tried to drown him, pulling him under for long stretches of time before he managed to fight his way back to air. Bouncing between the rocks like a pinball would leave him bruised and sore no doubt, but the worst came when the river pulled Artorias towards a small waterfall. Artorias tried to swim for the shore, but it was to no avail. The young wolf went over the edge with another shout of terror, and then was dragged through the underwater tow until he burst out of the water half drowned. This pattern continued for several miles until the Rio Grande spat his weak and broken body out into the sea. The current of the ocean took him from there, thankfully gentler and more predictable than the river had been.

He didn't know how long he swam for, but eventually Artorias was washed up onto a shore of pitch black sand. The wolf emerged from the sea coughing up river and sea water, hobbling up the shore, practically dragging himself at this point with how exhausted and in pain his body was. Every muscle felt sore, his body ached in places it never had, and the contrasting sensation fo warm blood running through his frozen wet coat felt alien on his skin. His open wounds stun from the saltwater in them, but they were the least of his concerns. Artorias managed to make it up to a dry portion of the beach before he collapsed to the sand, his body finally giving up the fight. His breathing was slow, labored, but steady. Bleary eyes gazed off into space while he stared down the length of the beach. He wanted to lift his head to call for help from somebody—anybody! But with no energy left to even keep his eyes open, Artorias dropped his heavy head to the sand and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and ignoring the pain until his brain decided to show his demolished body a kindness and he finally blacked out.

"Artorias"