It had been a relatively eventful morning. She'd just gotten back to patrolling after finally being cleared by Halo to do so. Finally, only after being sidelined in the raid (something she was still pissed about), could she actually get back to training. Training, and dispatching coyotes, apparently. What was it with those relentless little bastards? Three of them, today, along her route. In what world was three versus one a fair fight, those fuckers. Whatever, of course, she'd dealt with worse. Though relatively unscathed, Hazel couldn't say the same for her breastplate.

Honestly, Hazel was tired when she finally made it home. Halo had given her some crafting supplies (along with other things, like soap and snacks) to keep stashed away, and the yearling was glad that she wouldn't have to go down and ask for a needle and some sinew to make the repairs. There was no telling just how Halo would react, and the worrying was enough to make Hazel feel more guilty than usual. With a shrug and a heave, the girl shed her breastplate, finally able to sit down and assess the damage.

Figuring she should actually make use of the midday sun, the yearling set to work on the repairs.
"Speech"

Basilisk yawned widely as he made his way home. It was strange, to be heading out into the woods instead of the cave he had grown up in. Strange, and elating. He was going home, not to a nagging mother and a crowd of littermates, but to Hazel. His best friend in this world. The thought of it never failed to bring a smile to his maw. Even after a long gruelling day of patrolling the market. Breaking up fights, and giving the stink eye to anyone who looked like trouble.

He wanted a snack (he always wanted a snack) and to find his favourite pillow (Hazel) and complain about his day. He knew she would get a kick out hearing about the old wrinkly lady wolf that had tried to sell glass as crystal. He climbed up to the tree house and found Hazel with her breastplate before her. He yawned again, and flopped down beside her, resting his head on her back, his eyes to the stars. “Tell me your day was more fun than mine” he said, a hint of a whine in his voice.


"Speech"

Carefully, Hazel set about the repairs. As tightly and carefully as she could, the girl threaded the split pieces back together. It was hard without the assistance of Mr. Raccoon, but Hazel would sooner mess up her breastplate and have to make a new one, than worry Halo. It was typical of the healer to worry way too much, and Hazel really couldn't have that. She settled into the work, grumbling to herself as she did.

She barely looked up, engrossed in the work, as Bas came in. There was a familiar weight across her back though, and she found comfort in that. The girl tilted her head to peer at him for a moment before settling back to her repairs. "Fucken coyotes don't know what's good for them, I swear." She grinned, her tail flicking against Bas's shoulder. "Any good trouble in the market?" Trouble, oh how she longed for trouble. A good fight, or something. Yeah, Hazel could use a bit more of that.

"Speech"

Basilisk lounged happily against Hazel. So far, they’d gotten away with their flatting arrangement without so much as a peep of protest from the adults. The treehouse was often a cluttered mess. Filled with odd projects, and stashes of food for hungry teenagers. It was home in a way the cave had never felt like. “Did you kill them?” Basilisk asked, tilting his head in order to see her own tilted position, looking up at him. He grinned widely at her, the thoughts of her giving the coyotes a piece of her mind was thrilling.

“There was almost a fight at the market” He said, his voice made it clear what he thought of that ‘almost’. “Some old hag tried to rip off one of our wolves”


"Speech"

It was for the best that all of the adults had just sort of let it happen. None of them had protested or told them no. If Hazel had to guess, it had something to do with Bas being the crown prince now. Maybe they were getting a bit of a free pass on these things. Hazel would take it and try not to be self conscious. Maybe there were more eyes than usual on her, being his roommate and all. Hazel was still biting back her own feelings. Oops.

"Of course I did, what do you take me for?" Her tail wagged softly, flicking against Lis's shoulder. There was something proud about the way she said it, before casually turning back to her mending. A smile played on her lips, in her face. Pleased, finally beginning to seal up the new seam, covering over the scar in the leather as carefully as she could. Filling in the gap with pine resin, and working the leather over and over with intent paws.

"What do you even do with a crazy old bat?" She grinned, watching the situation play out in her mind's eye. There was something strange but beautifully so in the way they settled together. "Didn't let her beat you up too much, did you?" Hazel tilted her head, sticking her tongue out at him. All was right with the world. She was at peace here.
"Speech"

Bas huffed a soft laugh at her cocky tone, and the wag of her tail. “Good.” He said, trusting their borders were safe when she was on patrol. His eyes finally glanced at her work. The first time since he had arrived, and been more concerned with turning his roommate into a cushion then seeing what she was working on. “The coyotes do that?” he asked, a hint of a growl entering his voice. Lucky for the coyotes, they couldn’t be killed twice.

At Hazel’s teasing, he gave her a playful bonk on the head and pushed his remarkable weight a little harder down on his ‘pillow’ “I got to kick her out by her ear. It was kind of fun” He explained. But he could have done with a little more entertainment with his day. “I’m not on the roster tomorrow. We should… I dunno. Find something fun to do?” His voice rose in a cadence at the end, turning it into a question.


"Speech"

Hazel had a job to do, and she’d be damned if she didn’t do it to the best of her ability. In all things, it seemed like she was still trying to prove herself. Prove her worth. Prove that she really did belong her, among the ranks of the Armada. Maybe someday Azure would see it. Maybe someday she’d well and truly make Sirius proud— for real. Proud of something big. Hell, maybe Hazel would even be proud of herself someday. Maybe.

“Yeah, unfortunately. I think it’ll hold up okay like this, at least until I can find a way to ask Halo to replace the panel in a way that won’t make her lose her shit.” A soft grin as she continued to pack the scar in the leather with the sticky substance. It would hold well enough, that was for sure. Still, it would take some time to dry out, in the meantime she’d just have to be a bit more careful. That was alright.

As Bas squished her, the girl tilted her head to nose at his shoulder. It was a bit of a stabbing with her muzzle, but she was still grinning. “By the ear and everything, damn,” it was a chuckle that came with her remark. Settling in by his side, curling up a bit more closely as she set aside her repairs to allow them to dry. “What do you want to do?” They could scheme for something, plan for something big. A whole adventure!

Basilisk leaned further over her and gave the armour a tap. “If you don’t wanna ask Halo, you could ask Ruga, or Seer?” He suggested, still squishing his smaller friend. He had reached his full height, and towered over every wolf he had ever met. He did have to be a little careful, so he didn’t squish Hazel for real.

Hazel shoved her nose into his shoulder, and he could feel her cold nose against his thick fur. He pretended he didn’t even feel the stabbing of her nose, and prompted his head on his leg, considering her question. “We could spar, or maybe head out of the territory and see if someone will spar with the two of us in the battlefield? Or, uhh, look for coyotes maybe?” He owed the coyotes for denting his friend's armour.


"Speech"

She curled up against his side, tucked in as close as she could. This was the place where Hazel felt the safest, whether she'd admit it or not. Lis was bigger now, bigger than anyone could have guessed. Bigger than anyone could have imagined, Hazel included. Still, even in all of that, she knew that he'd never hurt her. This was the place that she could rely on. This was the one she could rely on. He wasn't wrong, there was always Ruga or Seer. She'd go see them eventually, even if it was a walk.

She rested her head against the boy's shoulder, pillowing down on the dense coat and being careful to avoid the spines. "We can always spar," it was maybe a bit of a whine, maybe a bit of a sigh. The idea of both of them taking someone on though? That was a thought she liked. A glint in her green eyes. "It's hardly even fair asking someone to take on both of us," a wink. "Sounds perfect." Imagine fighting against them? No one, absolutely no one, stood a chance.

"We should get lunch after, or go camping or something," there was a thought here, maybe something dangerous. "Maybe we could even swipe another jar of booze." Just a little transgression. No one would have to know.
"Speech"

Basilisk chuckled low in his throat. “But it would be fun He said as she pointed out the unfairness for their poor victim. It sounded like she agreed, and he gave her a wide grin. With a groan, he rolled off her back and hit the floor.

[b] “Why not both? Lunch and camping?” He said, and when Hazel mentioned booze a gleam appeared in his eyes. “So. A melee, a hunt, camping, and booze?” he relayed back, making sure he’d gotten the full list of the events laid out before them. He was keen for all of it. It sounded like a great way to let loose, and enjoy some time with Hazel.


"Speech"