It was after the meeting, but Charlie had hung around, wanting to talk to Basilisk even after everything. He waited patiently, tail curled around his paws as he watched member after member trickle out of the meeting. Others might have wanted to challenge for their ranks… and Charlie wasn’t sure if Basilisk would want him to fight before potentially granting him the rank of Master of Arms or if he would present him with a challenge as his father had. His mace was almost finished… as was Wylan’s dagger. Perhaps he could show him one of those when they were completed? He hummed softly, and once Bas was free Charlie called out to him.

“Warlord,” Charlie shifted to a standing position, his tail lightly wagging behind him. “I was hoping I might be able to talk to you about stepping up in rank to Master of Arms.” His lips pulled up into a smile. “It was in the works before Father left, but I’m afraid he passed the mantle to you before I had finished the trial he set for me.”

"Speech," 'Thought.'

Basilisk came to a stop, Focusing his attention on Charlton as the other wolf said his piece. He was a little weary of Kite's siblings at the moment. They had seemed pretty divided over how things had gone down. But his uncertainty lay in the strength of their loyalty. Would Kite return for them? To remove them from the pack, or sway them against him? Her opinions had been made painfully clear. 


But he also wished to respect his Grandfather's wishes. It put him in a little bit of a tricky spot. “Yes, Sirius had mentioned something of it before he left.” He admitted, studying Charlie carefully. Wondering if he was placing the wolf in a position to hurt him. “Do you have any finished works you could show me?”

As Basilisk arrived, focusing on him, Charlie noticed how the other wolf studied him. Did he not trust him to be loyal? Was he fearing that he would turn and pursue Kite? Not without evidence that she had been justified in her actions. As far as the tawny wolf could tell she had been the one in the wrong, the one who had been the aggressor in the situation. As much as Charlie loved his family, he wouldn’t support them tearing each other apart. Both Basilisk’s confused response and the spar that he had with the new Warlord had spoken to Charlie volumes about the type of man that he was.

“There are two that are nearly complete. I’ve been putting the finishing touches on them.” Charlie tells Basilisk, motioning with his muzzle to invite the Warlord to walk with him to the forge. “The first is a mace, a weapon that my father had been helping me design and make. I’ve been taking it slow, hoping that maybe we would have had more time to finish it together, but…” He chuckled softly and shook his head.

“The life of a warlord is a busy one. I can’t blame him for not having the time.” Charlie would miss his father, and wished that they had gotten to spend more time together, though he knew that he’d gotten to spend more time with the man than most of his siblings.

“The other is a dagger for Wylan. It was originally my father’s test for the position, and I admit I’ve been fussing over it, wanting it to be perfect. Anything for our pack, our family, should be.” His blue eyes were focused on the path ahead as he fell quiet for a moment. He thought of Kite, Crux, and the rest of his siblings. Would any of them request a leave from the Armada…?

“How have you been settling as Warlord, by the way?” He asked, hoping Basilisk wouldn’t mind a subject shift while they walked.

"Speech," 'Thought.'

Basilisk followed the younger wolf to the forge, eager to see what the other wolf had to offer. He looked at the mace as it was offered, and nodded his head. “I’m starting to see that” he said somewhat dryly. There were always things to be planning for, people to be meeting, alliances to make. Patrols it seemed were only scratching the surface of the job.

He looked at the dagger next, studying its design for a moment. It was clear that Charlie knew how to use the forge, and work the metal. “If you take this position, are you willing to make items that can be used in trade and alliances?” he asked thoughtfully, putting the dagger back down again.

“It’s a rather large change, but I intend to let this pack build and grow, and its wolves to flourish.” Basilisk said, knowing what that had come to mean to him.


"Basilisk"

Charlie glowed with pride as he moved his paw over the weapons. They were among his first pieces, but not the only thing that he would or wound want to make. But they were pieces made with pride and care, and Charlie had been learning a lot as he worked on both the mace and dagger. He’d give a sympathetic look at Bas, wondering just how busy the warlord had been. For his father it felt as though his work was never done… but he was sure that his nephew could handle it. He was young and capable. His gaze would flicker to the dagger as Bas set it down - he could hardly wait until he could gift it to Wyl… it just needed one last mark, a sign that it was from his uncle.

“Of course I would be,” He answered honestly, not missing a beat. “I don’t intend to let myself be content in simply making weapons either. There are so many items that can be crafted by paw, and so many benefits to them.” His gaze returned to the Warlord. “I want to help this pack grow, and I know that a boon to all packs is trade. If there is anything in particular you would like me to work on, or consider making so that we have it available, let me know. I’ve been coming up with plans for some bag claps, as well as figuring out the best way to make some vessels for cooking.” He had loved cooking alongside Isa after all. The pots would be a way to honor her memory.

Not that she had parted this world, but she was in Auster now, far from the northern reaches of Boreas.

"Speech," 'Thought.'