There was a lot for the young Warlord to consider. It would take some time for the dynamics of the pack to properly fall into place. There was also the approach of winter to consider, and getting on top of their supplies before then. Food, cold weather gear such as bedding, and so on. He had a few more jobs for his poor new slave to do, so he decided to go and search for her.

He didn’t have to go far, before he realised her scent was extremely localised around the supply den. He entered through the main door, and poked his nose into the side room. He found her fast asleep under some shelving. Curled up on her fox pelts, a little snore occasionally whistling from her nose. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, before clearing his throat. When that didn’t work, he repeated the action, but louder.


"Basilisk"

Spread around the Little Slave's fox pelt bed were various pieces of stone and burnt sticks, she had used some of the big fire in the Col to burn them. She had been scribbling on a leather piece long into the night, plans for a venting system for the storerooms, and doodles of the Prince Spider as an actual spider. There was also a doodle of her goggles in one corner, and another doodle of Basilisk's companion, the winged serpent... wearing Ignita's goggles.

Basilisk's first throat clearing barely roused her, her soft white ears subtly flinched at his second throat clearing and she slowly unwound her fluffy tail from around herself. Weary golden orbs blinked and looked up at the warlord standing nearby. She brought her blond paws up to her face and scrubbed her eyes of sleep then looked up again.

"Hm?" She asked groggily.  

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

While he waited for Ignita to wake, he leaned a little forward. Something had caught his attention, and he found himself squinting at the charcoal markings on leather. He ignored everything else, focusing on one in particular. Was that his kid, Spider? Except stylised as the insect. He leaned a little further, a scowl forming. Whether her interest was academical or romantic, she had no right to be thinking of the Prince.

He gave Ignita a small kick. “Morning starts early in the Armada. On your paws.” he ordered her, voice gruff. The sight of those drawings had knocked any patience out of him. He was ready to put her to work for the good of the Armada. “Have you finished cataloguing the supplies?”


"Basilisk"

Ignita grunted at his kick and scrambled to get up, cursing something about the sun under her breath. She stretched out her legs quickly and elongated her neck momentarily before shaking the sleep and dust off her bright pelt.

She'd have to get used to early mornings then. Her brain doesn't always shut up at night and she has to scribble things out.

"I think so." She answered his question about cataloging the supplies. Her eyes spied the papers that were scattered around her from last night, her doodles showing clear as day and she quickly pawed at them hoping he hadn't seen them, she stuffed some of them under a fox pelt with a quick swish of her back foot and tail. Then lifted herself on her hinds to reach the bottom shelf where she had placed a large piece of leather that held a count of the supplies in both storage rooms and a headcount from what she gathered from the meeting. Oops, a doodle of a boy with wings was scrawled in the corner, she quickly tried to smudge Wylan away. He had been nice to her at the meeting. Did Basilisk see that? She had to stop doodling.

"Here, according to this, if everyone has two rations a day we got maybe a third of a season in stores. If everyone showed up at the meeting, I took a headcount there." She said. It was probably not what he wanted to hear.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

It wasn’t always true, about the early mornings. But her day started whenever he decided it did. For now, she belonged to him. Getting an early start to the day didn’t come naturally to him, either. He was grumpy, and the scribbling of Spider didn’t help his mood any.

He waited as she scrambled to grab what she needed. He glanced at another scribbling as she pushed it away. The wings easily pointed to the owner, but he couldn’t care less if she drew Wylan. The boy was inconsequential, his head was filled with fluff. The only reason he had made it to the position of Heir, was the very complicated situation where his dead Grandmother had requested it.

He nodded his head and looked at the statistics she had drawn up. “Did you account for what we are bringing in a day?” Actually, she probably hadn’t been here long enough to see how things worked. “Hunts are sent out regularly, big hunts where a deer is brought down happen about once a week. The meat is taken down to the beach and cured in the smoke house down there. I’ll walk you through it.” He decided, pushing back to his paws, he turned and headed for the door without a backwards glance. “Oh, and this isn’t your bedroom, this is the pack store. Do well to remember it.” It didn’t matter to him if it was the only space she’d been given.


"Basilisk"

She had seen a few additions since she had been here but she didn't know the frequency. She was about to say as much when he went on anyway about the details of their food system.
Smokehouse, got it. She made a note.

He got up as she was scribbling her note about the big hunt once a week and froze as he mentioned this wasn't her bedroom. She bit her lip to keep herself from snapping back at him about how he hadn't given her anything else, instead, she pinned her ears as she gathered her leather and charcoal to follow him.

Crawling sand fleas! What did he expect of her? Where else was she supposed to keep her things? She stuck her tongue out at him when his back was turned.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Basilisk wasn’t there to play babysitter to a slave. She would learn the rules, or she would suffer. So far, she had shown him that she could be a quick learner, and he was hopeful that she would turn out to be something of an asset. He just needed to push and stress the mould until she formed in the image he needed. Luckily, he didn’t see her little act of insolence behind his back.

He led her down to the beach, taking her through another cave system that opened out into the sandy territory. As he made his way towards the little smokehouse, Orso trotted up to him. On the deer's back was a bright eyed possum. Chosen for its nimble hands, and crafty mind. He trusted it to do as he was told, and that was to spy on Ignita. b] “Right”[/b] He said, stopping at the smokehouse, Orso stopping beside him. He indicated with his nose towards the reindeers back. “This is yours, she’s to help you with any logistics you need to work on for the pack.”

"Basilisk"

The Little Slave followed diligently behind him, finding it a little harder to keep pace with him than their long trip to the Armada in general. Any turns he took would have her skittering after him.

She perked her ears and attention to Orso trotting up alongside them as they approached a new place that smelled delicious. At first, she only saw her prized goggles swinging from his antlers, then she saw a curious creature she almost recognized, except the coloring was different than what she knew of them.

Hers? Her golden eyes grew wary at Basilisk, holding her breath, waiting for him to admit he was kidding, it was a new companion just for him.

Then the little creature jumped from Oso's back to her own! He didn't call it back! A little Golden Brushtail Possum!

"It's not a trick?" She asked Basilisk quietly, looking at it as it sat easily on her back at the base of Ignita's tail. Two tiny black eyes blinked at her and its little pink nose reached out and snuffed at her. She couldn't help but laugh as it tickled her nose with its whiskers.

"Thank you, Basilisk." She told him gratefully, the first time she used his name.
"Can I name her? She's truly mine?" She had to ask again. She regretted sticking her tongue out at him earlier. even if he didn't see it.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He raised a brow at her question, wondering if she guessed at his ulterior motive already. The creature was picked for its ability to spy on her, and that could easily be called a trick. Luckily, she seemed pretty distracted by it already. Taken in by its actions on her back. “She’s truly yours, name her however you please. Be careful making friends with her, if you ever gain your freedom or sneak away, she’ll come back to me.” He warned. One way or another. Was he cruel, to find things to hold over? Perhaps. But his investment had to be worth something.

“Now, the smokehouse, take a look at the quantity of cured meat we gained from one deer, so you can add it into your equations. Winter isn’t far out, so if you think we don’t have enough for a full season we’re in trouble.” He said, turning her attention back to the matter at hand.


"Basilisk"

"Oh, my sunny sands!" she exclaimed and nosed the little possum's fur. But her easy joy was soon brushed away as he alluded to the idea that the little possum would return to him should she leave. Ah, so it was a trick... in a sense. Nothing would be truly hers here. She'll make friends with the possum anyway just to spite him! But dragon's teeth she was getting ready to give him a ripe old nip soon.

Her attention was brought back to the delicious smelling smokehouse and quickly counted the quantity of dried meat. If this was one deer and it happened once a week... Add in a few regular smaller hunts, let's say two a week on the low end... Estimate a missed big hunt or two... hmm... That wasn't giving her a good answer either...

She sat scribbling for a minute more, before she sat up, sighed, looked at her new companion, gave it a scritch behind the ears then spoke up.
"If you have a perfect hunt, every hunt, then maybe it'll come out even by spring. If I could make a suggestion, I'd say mountain goats would be a good livestock to start keeping. And gathering some fruit and berries to round out the diet a bit more. I didn't see any dried berries in the stores." She was making assumptions from what little she knew. This was quite a large pack, with quite larger wolves than she was accustomed to.

"I'd rather say we need more than lie to you and end up starving the pack come midwinter." She knew this was more important than keeping him happy. If she got a cuff to her cheek for offering suggestions, so be it.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Basilisk sat back on her haunches and watched her work, keeping his peace and letting her do so. After all, he had given her a job and now he needed to give her the space to complete it. After a bit of scratching, she came back with an answer. He gave a slow nod of his head. They needed more… he could work with that, especially since it sounded as if they were cutting it close instead of being so far off as to be unattainable.

“We can talk to Halo about the berries, she’s our healer. She grows herbs and fruits, and has hives to collect honey.” He explained, though his voice was distracted as he considered. After a moment, his eyes sharpened back to her, and he smiled. She was likely becoming wary of that smile by now. “I’ll leave you in charge of hunting down a mating pair of mountain goats. You can pick an Armada wolf to take with you, and tell them it's on my orders.” Perhaps an unexpected bit of authority for Ignita, but he wanted her to be versatile.

"Basilisk"

She started absently doodling her new little possum friend in the corner of her calculations as he spoke about Halo and honey. Interesting! She's never tasted honey! It was a little difficult to find in the heart of the desert where she grew up.

She turned to look up at him as he paused and she watched his teeth show through a now familiar grin that made her skin crawl.

"Oh noo... I don't think I'd be very good at that..." She wanted to head back to her store room and organize her belongings to be tidier then continue to work on the vent she was determined to put in at some point. She would keep going if he didn't interrupt her then, "Wouldn't a hunter know what mountain goats would be best?" She didn't think hunting down mountain goats would be a good use of her time at all.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Her reluctance told him that she was far from broken. There was a good foundation there, she just needed a little more work. “Your versatile, Little Slave” He said casually, leaning back on his haunches as he watched her. Waiting to see if she would need a little more reminding, or if a verbal push would be enough.

He was surprised to realise just how much he enjoyed spending time with the strange little wolf. Her mind worked a little differently than what he was accustomed to. Sometimes it went in odd directions, and she amused him more than he would let on. “Prove yourself to me, catch some mountain goats, and we can talk about finding you a better den. Some space of your own.” He said coaxingly.


"Basilisk"

She scowled as he reminded her of her title. Chewed her lip while she looked away filtering her voice from letting it grumble outwardly.

She was being helpful, wasn't she? How'd he have such delightful sons when their father, she assumed Wylan was his, was this manipulative ass? The Princes were her friends now, well she thought so, maybe she could get them to help her? But if they helped her escape she'd be leaving her new possum friend behind... and she liked her job. And if she escaped she'd probably be running for the rest of her life or something... She huffed and chewed her cheek again looking briefly up at him and then back down while she contemplated her options. Looks like she's gotta earn herself a better den.

"Fine!" She growled obstinately, she couldn't keep it out of her voice. She started to gather her things so she could start looking around for a hunter to help her with her new task. Get it out of the way so she could get back to her plans.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.