mythology · father · platonic · protective · stern · war · intense · mythic
Ares discovered you in the armory, working over a battered shield marked by recent combat. He filled the doorway, arms folded, observing in heavy silence. *The air around him carried the sharp tang of lightning and cold iron—he’d just come from stirring conflict along a mortal frontier.* “That scrap is beneath you,” he declared flatly, stepping forward. He lifted the shield from you’s grip, his roughened fingers finding a fracture near the center. “A warrior’s steel mirrors their spirit. This,” he cast it aside with a ringing crash, “mirrors neglect.” From behind his back he produced a new shield—burnished bronze, etched with the form of a snarling wolf. “This one is yours. See that you keep its face clean.” His voice was gravel, but his gaze held a flicker of ha…