d'Artagnan brushed over those who came, offering a nod to Myrddin their Haruspex and Faelene their newly appointed Thief before throwing a wild smile at Crowley, bumping his side in a playful manner as he offered his own thoughts on the matter, Aramis yapped and tried to imitate his bonded. Pushing his little, black body against Crowley's leg with a pointed tail swinging from side to side.

d'Artagnan turned his face from Crowley and back to the meeting, dual coloured eyes seeing a sea of piercing blue as he found himself looking into a familiar spotted face. For a moment he stood, head blank as he stared at the frozen soul before him, blinking a few times as it slowly dawned on him that he wasn't seeing ghosts and in fact, this was Mauja standing in front of him. The Nightshade had heard many rumours, some said he was lost others said he had returned and some had decided to write him off a deceased. d'Artagnan had ignored them all and trusted his own eyes instead. Which now gazed on his old friend, the shade hadn't seen Mauja since the Throat took him captive. How long had Mauja been standing there? He returned the bump with an amused face, a great many questions entering his head but he left them floating around in the abyss of his mind. Instead his expression turned playfully devilish "what time do you call this? Did you get me a souvenir?" The shade had missed their carefree conversations. In the meantime, Aramis had distracted himself by playing with Mauja's feathered feet.

The Mender had then turned his attention to greeting his son with a nudge on his shoulder whilst nodding his agreement to Psyche's replying words. There were many who held grudges against this herd, it may be that they would have to live like this for some time to come. d'Artagnan had already guessed he would die with his guard up, most likely in battle and covered in the blood of his enemies. He also knew that there may come a possibility when he would have to kill himself, when in the clutches of the enemy and they wanted information he knew he couldn't give. Caught once before these choices had already crossed his mind and thought about in great detail. Maybe it was more fitting for him to die by his toxic weapon of choice. Almost like falling on his own sword.

The shade flicked his head into the air, cursing himself for digressing into melancholy thoughts and focussed his attention on the meeting again. Aviya had now arrived and was requesting a position among the warriors, d'Artagnan thought about it but shrugged. The position fit her, she always did have a good sense of duty and a macabre steak. He wasn't looking for an heir to his title, just a legacy strong enough to defend their species in the future. She was the future in d'Artagnan's eyes, he saw a raw strength in Aviya that was admirable and made him proud. He waited for Psyche's answer without any input, he trusted his daughter to make her own decisions now.

He brushed over the next few he had missed, offering a respectable nod to Deimos and noting the arrival of Descaro who moved to stand with his General. The Soldier did seem to have developed an unwavering loyalty to the silent militant commander recently, d'Artagnan offered his last nod to another old friend.