Artorias approached the familiar borders he had come to know so well. The vast sea of tall grasses swayed gently in a warm late-spring breeze, bringing with it the scents of the Armada. A small smile crept slowly across his lips while fiery amber eyes surveyed the lands beyond. There was something about the Armada that always held the notion of home to him. Maybe it was because of all the time he spent here under the instruction of Sirius. Maybe it was because this was where his godfather, his girlfriend, and a pack close to his own lived. Whatever it was, crossing over the borders into the sea of grasses felt comfortable and easy to the young alpha. He didn't give a call as he entered, making straight for the Warlord's den as requested to keep his presence in the Armada a secret until the Fatalis brood's birthday celebration. Gods, he couldn't wait to see the reaction on Briar's face when he showed up at the party!

No sooner had he walked past the border and stepped into the long grasses, Artorias caught the scent of another predator on the wind. His nostrils flared, taking in the scent of a feline close by. The dire brute's head snapped in the direction of the smell, eyes narrowing to deadly points. If this was an Armada wolf's companion, he had no cause for alarm—but if it was an invading predator... Artorias turned to go scope out the area, to see if it was an actual threat or not. The weight of the sword on his back brought him some comfort, knowing that whatever he was stalking, he would have it outgunned. Unfortunately for him, Artorias didn't count on the fact that he was being stalked too.

As he moved through the grasses, nose twitching to follow the scent and eyes wide to spot his quarry, Artorias heard the telltale rumble of a big cat. He froze, turning in the direction of the noise, and seeing the flash of sunburst orange in amidst the green grass. The wolf barely had time to process what his eyes were seeing before the tiger roared and pounced at the wolf, very clearly not an Armadan companion by the lack of handler with it. Artorias snarled and threw himself to his back, curling to bring his hind legs up and intercept the tiger's pounce by kicking it in the chest. He managed to throw the tiger back away from him and buy himself some breathing room, rolling to his paws, but the sudden pain in his bandaged right foreleg where the pirate had stabbed him flared up like fire in his muscles. The Aegis grit his teeth to stifle a yelp, facing off against the tiger while trying to keep his weight off his right leg. The tiger got back to its paws just as Artorias drew the sword from his back, squaring off against the apex predator.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

The young pup made his way through the tall grasses. It was always an adventure, the way they towered over him so he couldn't see the direction he went. An exciting mystery where he never knew what would be around the next wave of grass. A pups imagination could be a wonderful thing, but even that didn’t prepare him for what he did find. Hearing the roar of a big cat startled him, and he whirled in a hurry, eyes wide. Excitement beating fear as he breathed quick little breaths, searching for the source of the sound.

Was this going to be like the lion all over again? What big cat made a noise like that, anyway? Reckless, and foolish, he plunged forward, searching for the source of the noise. Grass holding beneath his paws, he found here the cat - and the wolf - waited. The giant dark and blue wolf was facing down the big striped cat, and was that a freaking sword? In his maw. “Holy whattheshit” he gasped, knowing his mouth would have gotten him into trouble with family (but this was a stranger) “I want a sword!” he gasped as the cat snarled. Oh yeah, right. Predator. Assuming the wolf was on his side, and the cat wasn’t, the pup bounded to Arts side and bared his fangs at the striped orange creature. “Here, kitty kitty” he taunted.


"Basilisk Fatalis"

For a beat, neither wolf nor tiger moved or backed down from the stand off. Artorias held his ground, despite not being able to put much weight on his injured leg. He was locked in this fight now whether he liked it or not. To back down would mean death—for himself and for any of the young pups Sirius had told him had been born here recently. He would not allow that to happen. Carefully unslinging his bag of wines to set them aside, Artorias assumed a more stable fighting stance, squaring off with the tiger, which bared its long fangs at him with a hissing growl. Fire opal eyes narrowed to lethal points while Art snarled back from around the sword in his jaws. And then the wolf heard something he hadn't been expecting to hear: the voice of a pup.

The sudden burst of youthful expletives caught Artorias way off guard. A quick glance down, and yep, there was a sizable lad at his side, baring the hallmark Fatalis colors and saber fangs against the tiger with him. Without a doubt, this had to be one of the newest brood. Shit, now he had to watch out for the kid too! The pup started to taunt the tiger, far too effectively mind you, and the large cat turned its lethal attention to Basilisk instead. Artorias growled again and moved to protect the pup, placing himself slightly between the tiger and the child. The tiger roared and pounced, leaping to go around Artorias, but the wolf moved quicker. With a flurry of his blade, Artorias swung the sword in an upward arc that caught the tiger right across the shoulder. The cat yowled in pain as a splatter of crimson sprayed across the grasses.

Without missing a beat, Artorias spun and brought the sword back around to catch the back of the tiger's foreleg, severing the tendons where paw met leg and rendering it useless and limp. The tiger let loose a pained cry again and swung its good paw at Artorias' face, the wolf barely managing to duck beneath the strike and put some space between them. He yelped as the pain in his foreleg flared up again, protesting his erratic movements. Artorias favored his other legs, keeping his injured paw elevated and off the ground while he tried to maintain his balance. Fiery eyes moved between the tiger and Basilisk, making sure the pup remained out of harm's way. By distracting their foe, Art had opened up avenues for Basilisk to exploit.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

So the cool-as knight wasn’t very talkative, but that was okay. He stood like a towering guard between the Fatalis pup and the tiger, giving no ground. Bas taunted the cat, and the clawed creature raced forward. It seemed like it was trying to get around Art and to Bas. Must know who the real danger was here, right?

“Yeah!” Bas cried in delight as his sword sliced through the cat's skin. It let loose a cry of pain, telling them both it had taken a terrible blow. Cowing with delight, and not one that wanted to be left out, the pup dived under the fighting wolf's legs, skidding under his belly and out the front. And, oh yeah! Big ass sword was out here! He managed to avoid it as he came out the other side - and had the sword-wolf yelped too? He hadn’t thought the cat had gotten him. That was okay, he would defend cool-sword guy!

After ducking under the sword, Bas continued forward, leaping straight at the cat in a fearless all-in move. He didn’t know how lucky he was that Art had rendered one of its legs inert. It slowed it down and put it off balance as Basilisk leaped and latched onto its injured shoulder with his claws. Either way, he was putting himself in a far more vulnerable state than he clearly understood.


"Basilisk Fatalis"

But for the love of all the gods above and below, the Fatalis pup seemed to be doing all that he could to put himself in danger! Artorias, who was trying to keep as much of the fighting away from the lad, found his own personal cheerleader darting in and out through his feet, trying to get in on the action. Very nearly had his sword nicked wolf instead of leonine, frustrated growls mixing in with those of rage for the tiger. And then, when he was trying to put some much needed space between them and the murderous feline, the boy rushed in and leapt onto the injured tiger, biting and clawing at its injured shoulder. Artorias felt his heart sink in panic when the tiger roared in rage, turning smoldering golden eyes towards the pup on its shoulder, so very vulnerable and easily in reach.

"Don't move!" Artorias shouted from around the sword in his mouth while he charged the tiger, blade glistening in the sunlight. The tiger reached a massive murder mitten back to dig its claws into Basilisk—and then with a sickening sound of flesh and bone squishing and breaking, Artorias drove his sword straight through the tiger's skull, nearly bisecting it in half. One golden eye stared blank and lifeless as Basilisk while the corpse collapsed in a head to the ground, dead before it dropped. It wasn't his cleanest kill and it certainly was far more risky than he would've liked with Basilisk climbing all over their enemy and in his way, but what mattered was the threat had been neutralized and the Fatalis child was safe. Gods only knew what Sirius or Azure would've done if he'd failed to protect the boy.

Slumping back to his haunches while he stared at the sword sticking out from the tiger's head, Artorias took a few deep breaths to steady out his panicked heart, keeping his injured leg elevated again. At some point during the scuffle, his bandages and stitches had come loose, and now blood was dripping down his leg and paw. Fuck...! Artorias grit his teeth and bore the pain for now. He'd have to have the Armada's medic patch him back up before the party tomorrow. "You okay? Did it get you?" he asked the stranger pup after he'd had a moment to collect himself, looking the lad over. He didn't see any injuries, and he wanted to be sure the boy was okay before he told him off for his recklessness. Fatalis prince or not, running between a sword-wielding warrior and an apex predator was moronic on the best of days.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

Don’t move the until-now silent wolf ordered him. He hadn’t planned on doing so, but he latched on tighter anyway. Growling as he managed to find purchase with his teeth as well, and just totally latched on there, digging in with teeth and claws. He felt the cat shift beneath him, was it reaching a paw around? Uh-oh! He started to finally get an inkling just how easy it would be to snatch him with those giant, powerful paws when suddenly the cat stiffened.

Basilisk was granted a view of its skewered face, and then cat and wolf both fell to the ground. “Ooof” he cursed as he struggled to pull his claws free of the corpse. The second he did, he leaped on top of the corpse, standing just behind the sword as he did a little victory dance. “Take that! Funny stripped lion” he said, grinned across at Art “I’m fine i’m fine. This is so wicked” he said, pointing at the sword, and then leaned over in attempt to grab the hilt in his mouth.


"Basilisk Fatalis"

Artorias watched while the pup—who seemed unusually large for the age he was supposed to be based on Sirius' telling of when the pups were born—climbed atop the carcass of the tiger and began to dance and celebrate their victory. There was a certain innocent mirth to the lad that reminded Artorias of a bit of himself when he had been a pup, riding atop a battle tortoise like he was invincible and owned the world. "Tiger," the Aegis corrected the pup's naming of their foe a funny-striped lion. "That's called a tiger. Different from a lion." Basilisk confirmed he was fine and Art allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief—until he saw the boy try to go for the sword lodged in the skull of the dead cat.

In the blink of an eye, Artorias was back on his paws and moving to intercept Basilisk, rapping a paw up the backside of the pup's head in a gentle yet firm order to stop what he was doing. "It is, and it's very sharp and heavy, so don't touch." Reaching up, Artorias grabbed Basilisk's scruff in careful jaws and lifted him off of the tiger's body and away from the sword, setting him down on the ground. With the pup out of the way, Artorias grabbed the sword and wrestled it free from the tiger's cranium with a splatter of blood and brain matter. He wiped the sword off on the tiger's fur and slid it back into its scabbard across his back. Then he turned his attention back to the boy.

"What's your name, little guy?" He followed up that question with another question. "You're one of Azure's kids, aren't you?" A scoff and roll of his eyes as he added, "Figures..." With the danger gone, Artorias took the time to check out his leg. Yep, his stitches had definitely pulled and he had some nasty bleeding going on, but he'd ultimately live. "Fuck... Hey, do you know Lia? I need you to fetch her and send her to the barracks on Sea's Plain, understood? Tell her Artorias is hurt. Can you do that for me?" He didn't want to call for a healer and ruin his surprise appearance, but he definitely needed a trained professional to fix him up.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

Tiger? must be a different kind of cat to a lion then. Maybe Halo would help him work out all the differences later. He was just about to reach the sword when he felt a rap of a paw on his head. His knee-jerk reaction was to pull away and duck his head submissively, even if this wolf wasn’t his dad or Uncle. Art further proved his air of authority by scruffing the pup and depositing him on the ground. ‘Aw man’ he muttered with a quiet sigh, knowing authority when he saw it.

He watched and sighed as the giant wolf cleaned and put away the big shiny sword. Lame. maybe his grandpa would let him have one? He’d have to ask the next time he saw him. “Basilisk… sir” he answered, almost unwillingly. Art having moved up from ‘random wolf with a cool sword’ to ‘Figure Of Authority’ He did scrunch up his brows in confusion as the stranger added in ‘figures’ what was that supposed to mean?

He stood without shuffling, some of his restless, reckless energy bleeding away under the eye of someone in charge. Watching as the other wolf checked on an injury on his leg. When had that happened? Bas wasn’t sure. “Yes Sir!” he said, jumping back to his paws as Unknown Wolf Of Authority gave him an order, he did give one last cheeky smile, and then took off running in the grass.

It was pretty easy to find the healer, and tell her that a cool sword-wielding blue wolf of authority needed her to patch up a tiger-wound. He would have come right back, too, and peppered Art with questions, but his dad called his name. There went that plan. Maybe he could find Sword-Wolf again later?

-Exit-

"Basilisk Fatalis"