With the approval of her father, Basilisk was now a member of the Armada. He was her guard. He was so much more, but outwardly, he was her guard. Night and day he would be beside her. A constant companion. It would be nice having someone around. She had wanted Kaizer in this position but the girl wasn't around as often as she'd like. First they would stop at the kill den. "Go ahead and choose. As much as you'd like is fine." While he rummaged through the various meats, both dried and fresh, Asla chose her own dinner. Weighing her options, she eventually chose a roasted ptarmigan that had been rubbed with herbs. Only when Basilisk had picked his meal did she leave the stores and cross the territory to her own den. Aslatiel had chosen a space on the opposite side of the territory from her family den. It made her feel more independent to have her own space so far away. Her father had constructed the den beneath a large tree. It was spacious and had a few chambers for herself and guests as well as a main chamber. There was a smaller one at the back where she stored furs and various objects. Placing her roasted bird on a slab of slate, she directed Basilisk in with her. "You can pick which room you'd like to sleep in. There are extra furs back there. Help yourself." She was incredibly informal, but that's just how she was. Settling down on a little stack of furs, Aslatiel began to pull the meat from the breast of the ptarmigan in strips. "Speech"

He crossed into the territory of abaven, the large leader rubbing his shoulder against his, and leaving the pack scent on his coat. He belonged to an entirely new sect now, and his life had drastically changed. He was still learning the rules, and was weary of stepping wrong. He was led first to the center of the pack, where his lady indicated a cellar, and told him to help himself as he pleased. He stepped into the cool underground den, and was surprised at the stores available to the pack. He snagged some dried meat, and made his way back to Aslatiel. chewing as he walked. She had grabbed something of her own, and was leading him away again. He swallowed a few more mouthfuls, the weight of it hurting his hollow stomach. He led her to a den that smelled only of her, with a hint of guests as Sirius and others that he could not name. It made sense that this would be all hers, she was a Princess after all. “You wish for me to sleep inside, Lady Aslatiel?” He asked with some surprise. Confused that she was offering him coats and a room. Luxurious not fit for his station. Even the food tasted of good cuts, and the sweetness of the preservatives was strange and unexpected. He wanted to gobble down the rest of it, but placed his food besides Aslatiel’s, uncertain why she had not eaten immediately. "Speech"

The man seemed confused about damn near everything. He'd chosen a bit of dried meat though she knew he most likely wished to eat more. He balked at the offer to sleep inside. He even put his food down when he saw that she hadn't started to eat immediately. Hell, she just liked to strip the meat from the bone first before she enjoyed. No deep thinking involved there. It might take him a while to break him from all of his prior conditioning, but she would do it. His words brought an amused arching of brows from the young wolf. "Yes, you're going to sleep inside. Your former master seems like she didn't care whether you lived or died, but I do." She motioned again to the small alcove of furs. "So go prepare your space. How are you supposed to guard me if you're away from my side?" She spoke what was obvious to her. Of course a guard had to stay near their charge. There was extra room, so why shouldn't he have one? After the explanation that she thought was clear, Aslatiel began eating her strips of seasoned meat. She was in no hurry, so she chewed at a leisurely pace. Already her mind was wandering, wondering just what she and her new acquisition could get into. "Speech"

She was determined to get her way. He would, of course, do her bidding. "The Lady is Wise" was all be said. If a hint of dryness entered it, perhaps it could be mistaken for befuddlement. What Lady wanted to sleep in the vicinity of a slave? Only those that picked the ones that pleased their eyes from the fighting rings to warm their bed. Was that what she wished of him? Was that why she kept him close? The kiss was strange enough. The Lady Hazel had jealousy kept him from the arms of other nobility. She had not taken him in such a way, either.

Assured that she intended for him to eat, he ripped into the dried meat with relish. It didn't hold the same satisfaction as bloody hunches, but jt hit the spot. Somewhat. He knew he shouldn't eat more until his stomach had a chance to adjust from jts starvation. That didn’t mean he wasn't left craving more.

He went sniffing at the furs, and then did something unusual. Pushing the boundaries, to see what exactly she would do, he grabbed the largest and best from her spares. The audacity of it would have sent him tumbling to the ground from a blow from his beaters. What would this strange lady do? He raised his head high to drag it to the den closest to the door. Setting up at the very entrance of the den, so he coukd see ang who entered the Ladys home. He wasnt certain how 'real' his role as her guard was. But she was HIS. Dammit. And he wasn't going to give up this strange, wonderous Master easily.

His words brought soft laughter from the girl and she placed one paw over her chewing mouth to shield it from view. "Wise indeed." It was good to see that there was a bit of snark in him. Maybe he didn't see it as that, but she did. And she liked it. Aslatiel wasn't the type to like others cowering before her. At least not too much. She enjoyed being challenged. As long as he remembered who she was in the end. Purple eyes watched as he inhaled his food then went and chose a fur from the alcove. He chose the most lush of the bunch. Fair. She had told him to choose for himself, afterall. Besides, there was no shortage of furs around the Armada. Everyone had more than enough. If he wanted to have something nice, he could have something nice. With her meal gone, she collected the bones and stacked them on the slate dish that she'd been using. She'd dispose of them later. Amusement glittered in her eyes as she watched the big boy stalk to his claimed spot. "Just one?" The cream and grey girl stretched. "Up to you if you enjoy sleeping on a hard floor. I believe there are pillows in there too." Padding to the alcove, she pulled out a few pillows that had been filled with down. These she chucked across the space and into his chosen room. Maybe she was spoiling him, but she quite liked the feeling. "Speech"

His acquisition of the greatest coat did not so much as garner a second look. What kind of backwards place was this? He almost wanted her to punish him. To get ot out if the way. Surely it was building up, bidding her time, strengthing her righteous anger to put him in his place. He wanted the other shoe to hurry up and fall, so he didn't feel it hovering above his head.

God lord. She chucked some fluffed up contraption he only ever seen beneath the necks of nobility. He cautiously reached a paw over and squished it gently down upon the pillow it sunk like a cloud. He bit back a groan. He had died. That was the only answer, he had died beside lady Hazel. Or... he was in the last throes of death, and this was a fever dream his rattled mind had created to offer him sanctuary. A beautiful Princeas, lavish comforts. Yeah, no, he had left reality far behind.

Cautioualy, he grabbed the pillows and dragged them towards the coat. Slowely, cautiously, as through she might snatch back the comforts and laugh at him, he sunk into them. He almost purred. The soft coat beneath his body, the pillow under his head. He felt like he was sinking. It gave him the uncomfortable sensation of falling. It was almost too much comfort. His body wasn't accustomed to it, and he couldn't settle. But nor could he remove himself from them. If the Lady did not intend to snatch them from his grasp, then it would be unspeakably rude to turn his back on them.
"Does... My Lady wish... a massage?" He asked cautiously. He wouldn't have even had to ask his previous Master, but this world held no common sense.

Though his reactions were amusing, they also made her a little sad. His previous master had really done a number on him. She wished that she could kill the woman all over again. The humiliation after her death would have to be enough though. She couldn't wait for someone to find her eviscerated in the woods. It was a well traveled place, after all. No doubt she would be suspected when someone found her, but for this, she would gladly accept the accusations. Basilisk sunk down into the furs and she could see the comfort glaze over his gaze. It pleased her to please him. His words brought her out of the mental meanderings and she arched the brow above her marked eye. "Aslatiel, remember?" He was supposed to call her by her name when they were alone together. He could call her Lady in front of others, but alone, she was just Aslatiel. "And no, I don't want a massage. I want you to sleep. You look like you need it." Rising from her place, Asla moved about the main chamber. She pointed different things out. "This is full of water." Point. "Bowls to use." Point. "You know where the furs are in case you want some padding beneath you." Her plum colored gaze rested on his face. "Is there anything else than you need, Bas?" "Speech"

Chastised, he bowed his head in regret. "Humble apologies, Aslatiel." The taste of her name, alone without honorific was bizarre, snd the familiarity sent a strange jolt through his body. "As you wish." He agreed, through it woukd have been his pleasure to send her to blissful sleep with his well trained paws. Perhaps then it would also lift her eyes from him. He felt strangely SEEN beneath her gaze. The sensation left him feeling uncomfortable.

She began to move about the room, and his gaze obediently followed her. Settling on bowls and coats and the like as she pointed them out to him. His eyes lingered on the water, but he said nothing and made no move to rise for the moment. Not intending to interpret her impromptu tour.

She ended it with another dose of strangeness, asking if there was anything lae he needed. She was treating bizarrely like some honored guest. His head was getting fuzzy. He was well outside the bounds of what was known. He tingled for a whipping, for some sign that the world hadn't gone completely mad. "I want for nothing, My La-Aslatiel. I am humbled by your gracious treatment of this unworthy one." He closed his eyea. Forgoing water for the sake of gaining a break from the madness. Either she would hurt him for the rudeness of closing his eyes when she had not dismissed him, or she would let him be. One would be a return to normal, and the other meant rest. Even if it was uneasy.

Unworthy one? Moving forward, Aslatiel placed one set of pads gently on Basilisks chin, tilting it upwards and forcing him to meet her gaze. "Not unworthy. Not here." She released him and poured him a bowl of water herself, bringing it and placing it beside the entrance to his space. "You serve me. If you are unworthy, am I not also unworthy?" The girl shot him a mischievous glance. "Take pride in yourself and you make me proud as well." Deciding that he didn't have nearly enough furs to sleep upon, Asla grabbed a few more, including one thick hide pulled from the back of a musk ox. It was thick and would keep him off of the ground. Back to his room, she tossed the furs behind him. They were his now because she'd given them to him. "This is the beginning of a whole new life for you, Basilisk. It may not be easy, but I hope that it will be worth it." The hardest part would be breaking him of his submissive behavior, she imagined. She didn't want him to be submissive. She wanted him to obey, but she wanted him to have fire inside. She wanted a challenge. Just the thought of it stirred something inside her and she found a smile playing over her features once more. "Speech"

His devious plan was utterly foiled. He was not whipped, nor left alone. Instead, his eyes snapped open as he felt her touch against his skin. He flinched, very subtly at the unexpected touch. She releasd him after her bizarre rant, fetching water herself. Telling him how much her eyes saw. He watched her with all caution, as one might watch a rabbid dog. With no idea what they might do next. "My L-Aslatiel is wise." It seemed a safe set of words to settle upon. Even if he did keep screwing them up. The pride of a servant had no coalition to the pride of a Master. in fact, in his experience, it was the very opposite. The most powerful and richest were the cruelest to the sorry creatures they owned. He was wise enough not to contradict her, however. It was inappropriate for him to have an opinion that differed from his Master.

He cautiously sapped at the water. Maybe it was poisioned, and thats why she was so insistent he have it. Oh please, let it be poisioned. This place was off its rocker, he wouldn't mind a little eternal sleep right about now his body had already been through a rough time lately. Now she was mentally slaughtering him, too.

She dumped a few more coats him, and the action seemed alkost defiant. As through begging him to protest the sudden riches. He was still eyeing her wearily. "Am I expexcted to replicate in the night?" Okay, so it was a snarky thing to say. But she was giving him enough coats to house an army. What exactly was he suppose to do with them all? If she expected him to duplicate via osmosis, she was going to be mightily disappointed.

His retort after being given more furs brought a snort and a chuckle from Aslatiel. "Oh, look. There is some fire in you after all." So his former master hadn't beaten it all out of him. "The furs are for comfort. Sometimes, even in summer, the nights get a little cold. You're welcome." She sent her own snark back at him. "Besides, we'll be replacing those furs soon enough. Summer is prime hunting time." A little yawn pulled from Asla and she glanced towards her own furs. She was tempted to make Basilisk even more uncomfortable by joining him in his, but she would allow him time to decompress and accept his current situation. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we begin." She wanted him trained and able. Though small and dainty, Aslatiel was a little powerhouse. She expected the skills of any that guarded her to be equal to her own, if not better. Leaving Bas in his place to stew over whatever was going on in his pretty little head, Asla moved onto her own pile of furs in her own chamber. Rolling her shoulders, she stretched a bit before sprawling out on said furs. Though she'd spoken of some nights being chilly, this wouldn't be one of them. She was thankful for the breeze that drifted through. She'd left the skin uncovering the door for that purpose. "Speech"

Fire? The only fire a master appreciated was on the battlefield, or beneath the sheets. Heat ubfused his neck at the thought, and he want entirely convinced she wasn't pampering him for such an occupation. His training had not extended this far yet, and he woukd be a mighty disappointment and unworthy entertainment for a Princess. Besides the idea sent a surge of panic through his vains. He wasnt entirely certain why. He was an obedient slave to his Master whims after all.

"It would be my honor to replace them." He said, assuming that was what she meant. He would be put to work soon, thank goodness. Work was something he understood. She gave a small yawn and he almost leaped back to his paws to offer her a massage, fine foods, whatever she wished to help her find her sleep. He contained himself, however. She had already declined once, he would not be fool enough to ask twice.

He was left alone after that, to his jumbled thoughts. First, he creeper quietly off the furs, and onto the familjar sensation of hard floor. He wasnt going to be able to sleep with thay unfamiliar comfort. Then, he lay awake for a time, and before he knew, drifted off into uneasy sleep.

He woke to the faint scent of rot, and knew one of the wounds he had accumulated in his escape with the Lady Hazel threatened to turn sour. He grimaced, knowing without a doubt that there woumd be no clinical assessment of the state of nobility goods here. He would have to care for himself. He had the basic understanding of medicine. Through the branch he had been taught angled more towards muscles, and easing them. He knew herbs that soothed the skin. But he also knew of honey, and trillium - through rare - for bloody poisoning. He would have to consider carefully how to please. As it stood, he did not know what set off the Lady Aslatiel. Sneaking out soumd be taboo, surely. He would need a decent excuse. Perhaps to fetch her a royal feast for breakfast. A hunt woukd give him a chance to scout about. It was still a few hours till light, so he returned to the furs, and rested uneasily, waiting for a hint of his Mistresd stirring.

It was rare for her to sleep more than a few hours at a time. The movement of her new guard didn't rouse her in the slightest since she was used to sleeping in a communal den with others milling about. So, whether Basilisk was moving or not, Asla wouldn't wake until she was good and ready. Three, maybe four hours later, she began to stir. A little grimace pulled down her brows as she sat up. Her previously injured shoulder was a little stiff. She'd make the mistake of sleeping on it. Rolling that shoulder a bit, she grumbled and moved out into the main chamber. Ever quiet on her paws, Aslatiel peered in at the resting form of Basilisk before slipping out of the den and into the morning light. It had just begun to peek over the horizon. What would he do if left alone, she wondered? Would he simply stay there until she returned or would he come looking for her? It was an interesting question and would show just what kind of guard he was going to be. For now, Asla sat outside the den, soaking in the morning sunlight. "Speech"

He wasn't certain how long he waited, until he heard the very quiet sound of soft paws. One of the harshest lessons learnt to him was hearing the faintest hint of his Master needing him. A moments delay meant pain, and his senses had been honed to hear the slightest whisper of movement. He rose, biting back a wince. His own muscles were stiff and sore. He did not know how long he had ran with the Lady Hazel on his back, nor how long he had sat beside her waiting for death. His body protested it on, but at least his belly didn't ache too terribly. He rose, stretching carefully, knowing the wisdom in doing so. Then he left his corner of the den and found the Lady Asla sitting be each the sun.

He was loath to disturb her, she sat there, perfect in her body. Her slim frame was built on powerful muscles, and the subtle accent of her body glowed beneath the morning sun. She looked as regal as her status said she was. Not that he had ever doubted it for a moment.

He seated himself in the shadows of the dens entrance, content to wait patiently there, watching over her until she needed him. Assuming already his position as her guard. Ignoring the hunger of his belly, and the ache of his wound. They were silly, unimportant things next to the honour of serving her.

She heard him stir but paid him no mind. Not until the acrid stench of a rotten wound hit her nose. Aslatiel wrinkled her soft brown nares and turned her attention to him. "You're hurt." It was a statement and not a question. "How are you going to serve me properly if you're damaged?" She tried to relay it in a way that he might understand. What she really wanted to say was 'Why didn't you tell me you were injured, you dummy?' With a pull of her head, she motioned for him to follow her. "We'll get you fixed up then get some breakfast." She was still full from supper, but he was a bit, strapping lad. Of course he was hungry. "Did you sleep well or were you worried the whole time?" Her look was one of amusement. Of course he was worried the whole time. Bas was an anxious sort. That much she had noticed so far. Who could blame him? She imagined he had suffered at the paws of his former mistress. Well... Aslatiel wouldn't hurt him physically. Nor would she allow him to harm himself as the other wench had. Coming to the cottage of her aunt, Asla knocked lightly on the doorway. "Aunt Io? Could you help with something?" She waited for either her aunt or her uncle to answer the door. In the meantime, she motioned for Bas to sit on one of the piles of furs on her aunts front porch. "Speech"

Io had already been awake when the knock sounded at the door. Aslatiel's soft voice called out a moment later and the dainty healer wasted no time in sliding open the fur over the door and moving out into the morning sunlight. She was feeling decent this morning. No nausea or dizziness yet, knock on wood.

Coming out into the open, Green-gold eyes fixed on the big brute sitting on her furs, then shifted to stare inquisitively at her niece. Asla explained that her new friend was injured and had a rotten wound. Io furrowed her brow and moved to the brute who, upon closer inspection of his face, was nothing more than a young boy. A large boy, but very young. "What happened? Tell me of your wounds." She sent Asla inside to grab her pack with her supplies. In the mean time, she waited for an explanation.

She turned to him, and stillness overtook him. He worked hard to keep the rhythm of his breathing. Was that disappointment in her tone, or was he reading too much into it? He had never been faced with the lash of disappointment before. He was surprised at how much it hurt. He wanted to be perfect in his service to her. She had caught on immediately to that which he had sought to keep hidden. Show no weakness, nothing that might inconvenience his betters. He couldn't seem to do anything right around her. Surprisingly, she seemed to take it in stride, motioning for him to follow. It gave him a moment to steady himself, and mentally chide his foolishness. She unsettled him in a way no one else had before her. How to answer her question? "I slept as well as a babe" he promised her. The children he had fleetingly seen had only napped for short periods, fussing and unhappy. The children of slaves. He followed her a serene looking cottage, with a backdrop of a trickle-down-garden, the like of which might be found in the garden of a Queen. He grew immediately uncomfortable, weary of what type of authority she might introduce him to next. She walked with confidence to the door, and began to speak, motioning him to a pile of furs. He bowed in acknowledgment, and moved to seat himself where directed. The next thing he knew, a wolf named Auntie ambled towards him. He dipped his head in polite greeting to the… what was the auntie of royalty? Well. He was assured of her healer rank. “I have a claw mark in my belly, Honoured Healer, and a bite mark behind my neck.” "Speech"

Aslatiel was incredibly amused as Basilisk bestowed titles upon Iolaire as well. She knew that her aunt would hate that. She was the one that had turned Asla off to titles after all. Titles were words and words were wind. She couldn't wait for Io to tell Basilisk that. No doubt his eyes would bulge out of his head. Whatever formality he had been accustomed to before, all of that went out the window now. Asla was terribly informal and Iolaire was worse. As Bas explained his wounds to Io, Asla sat nearby and watched. She listened and observed their interaction with interest. Again, she wanted to re-kill the dead woman that she'd hung from the tree. She'd been such a stupid, stupid woman. Asla wouldn't dream of abusing Basilisk in such a manner. "Speech"

Io furrowed her brow as the boy spoke. "Honored wha..." Then ash, onyx and snow woman shook her head. "No, no no. My name is Iolaire. Titles are words and words are wind." Giving the boy a pat, she set about looking at his wounds. She didn't see Aslatiel behind her, rejoicing at the words her aunt had lectured Basilisk with.

First she inspected the bite behind his neck. That one wasn't terribly bad, though the neglect was obvious. Carefully, she spread the fur from the wound and began to clean it with fresh water. With a set of shears, she clipped away the dead, hanging bits of skin, careful to not hurt the boy. Once finished with cleansing the wound, she spread honey on it followed by a poultice of healing herbs and finally a scrap of bandage to hold it all in place.

Next the gave the boy a little push, prompting him to lay on his side so that she could look at the wound in his stomach. Io wrinkled her nose and shot the earthen lad a reproachful glance. "Why didn't this get cleaned?" She began to clean the wound, squeezing the puss out of it and onto a scrap of cloth before cleansing it with water. She followed the same routine as the wound on his neck. Honey, poultice, cloth. To hold the cloth in place, she fixed a band around the boys stomach. Looked like he was wearing a little belt, but that couldn't be helped. "You can ditch the big bandage in a few days, but you'll have to redress the wound at least twice a day. Understand?" Her tone was no-nonsense. He had no room to argue.

“Apologies, Miss Io” he said politely, holding still as she examined him. The pat was strange, but he was becoming accustomed to everything in this world being upside down. He paid careful attention to what Io was doing. Knowing any scrap of knowledge added to his pool would aid him later. As Io worked, he was the perfect patient. Making not one noise of complaint, and allowing her to move him as required to tend his wounds. He moved to his side, and received a world of lectures in the older woman's eyes. “I was running for our...my life, Ma’am” how much was he supposed to say, how much was to be kept hidden? Admitting this much said nothing about his position in the world. His face became even more stoic as she cleaned the wound, and from his expression, one would never guess a healing was poking and prodding his sore places. “Understood, Honou-Miss Io.” he agreed compliantly. Curious about the tools and resources she had her fingertips. He had no doubt of her experience as a healer, but her earlier words spoke volumes. She appreciated only deeds, not promises. A hard woman to please. "Speech"