Artok was many things. An ass. A jerk. Bitter and broken. Rude and loud. But. But he also still held some sort of something, that protected the innocent. Perhaps not forever, once they grew up and started viewing things a certain way. Well then it wasn't his job to protect them, it was their job to protect themselves.

Artok felt like he remembered feeling old. That he had been old. The weakening of paws. The way his body have given out. And yet how was this possible. He was no more than 3. Still a young man in his prime, despite his limitations.

Death isn't so bad. It's like a nice rest. He spoke the words with a conviction that he wasn't sure where it came from. But it was a truth he would die on a hill for. And if you saved another while dying, all the better for it.

Nyra sounded wrong. The name sounded wrong, but she had introduced her self as such and he would remember it. No she didn't, not yet. Today I was doing what I always do to loosen up this shoulder as best I can.