Days after finding goats with Tethys, the Little Slave was busy in her storeroom. She had started to build an elaborate stacked system of ladders and boards between the shelves and the floor until it reached the highest point of the cavern room. Branches were lashed with rope in crude steps throughout the shelves. Stacks of bound leather and furs offered different landing points for quick access back to the ground. A few select stalagmites were used as balancing points with crudely lashed rafts of fresh branches between them.

Ignita's little possum was braiding another rope as Ignita gathered the last of her supplies. She probably should have cleared this project with someone, but the sooner this was done the better the outcome for their winter stores, and frankly the less bureaucracy the better. According to her.

Once she told Basilisk what she had done and how it would help their stores last longer, including keeping fresh berries and apples available until springtime, she was sure he would give her the goggles back.

The project was also keeping her from focusing on how her body was making her feel. Her skin felt too tight, her fur felt too hot, her paws felt clammy at weird times, and she couldn't stop thinking of what would happen to Spider if they became close friends, or Wylan. She wondered if she'd ever see Zoey again.

She kissed her little golden possum, Idalia, on the head and gave her a berry for her good work and for being just the cutest thing ever. Idalia blinked her little black eyes at Ignita and tickled the girl with her long whiskers. The little slave was reminded that Basilisk gave her the possum. He had certainly been a lot more lenient since he brought her to the Col.

"A'right Ida, let me know when it's dinner time, I'm hoping to work until then." A little nod from her companion told her she understood. She hadn't quite figured out how to fully communicate with Idalia yet as Basilisk could do with his companions. But she was sure they would figure it out.

Ignita climbed her way up to the top of her precarious structure with an iron chisel and mallet she absconded from the forge. She was using them for their intended purpose, right? When she was done she'd put them right back, no harm done.

She settled into place at a corner where she thought she could hear some wind. She set to work for a few minutes and then noticed her paws felt all clammy again and her fur felt too tight this time. UGh, can it just not right now? She kept going for another few minutes getting increasingly frustrated with her paws holding the chisel. This was harder than she thought it would be! She was also feeling a little unsteady in her seat. She glanced down at a nice soft landing pad not too far away, good, right, she was glad she remembered that. With a nod, she leaned in to continue chiseling the rock wall of the cave.

She heard a soft creak before disaster struck. She dropped the hammer, and the creak turned into a moan as the precarious ladders and steps up to the ceiling started to shift. She held her breath for a moment and glanced at Idalia.

The little brushtail possum had her tiny black eyes glued to Ignita's.

The wolf shifted to see if she could leap to the landing pad.
No dice, she shifted and the whole thing came crashing down. With a sharp yip the rafts and branches and ropes came undone, taking her with them. Causing a cacophonous crash reverberating through the lower caves.

She was falling.
Suddenly she saw stars as she was falling.

A gust of dust rushed through the cavern and blew the makeshift door open, a small golden possum making a beeline for The Warlord across the Col.  

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Basilisk had been sitting on the porch of his new den when he saw the little possum go scampering out of the storeroom. Larimar, coiled around his shoulder, rose up and fluttered her wings. Her eyes set on the cave entrance as if she had heard something Bas hadn’t. Frowning, he got to his paws, and headed down the trail at a quick trot. He had told the possum to report to him, so its presence wasn’t totally unexpected. So why did he have a bad feeling?

He wasn’t surprised when the possum turned around, and led Bas into the storeroom. Inside, a heaving mess awaited him. He looked on in dismay at the shelves. Most of them his grandfather had only recently repaired from the flood…

As he stepped cautiously through the carnage, he realised the possum was still frantically trying to get his attention. Leading him further in, towards… Ignita! The little pale wolf was lying among some shelves, looking awfully still. He crouched down beside her and felt for a pulse. Having been half raised by Halo, he knew that much. There it was. She was still alive. He frowned unhappily. Halo was off looking for Kite, Crux had stormed off after the fight. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Aris. leaving just a few babies who knew some healing.

He picked her up - and she really was a tiny thing - and took her out of the storage room. He would be angry at her for that later. In fact, putting it to rights was going to take up a lot of her future time. Because she was going to be fine. Well enough to do the heavy lifting. Scowling, he shoved his way into the door of his den, and made his way to one of the back rooms. Not Spiders, which lay on the right, but an empty one on the left. Here a spare bed was made up with the highly sought after bedding of a polar bear. He placed her down on the bed, and began to check her limbs for any breaks.


"Speech"

Groggy. She vaguely opened her eyes to see the world whisk by as if she was running. Strange. She wasn't even walking...
She blinked, it was dark again, the cave, that was...right?... her head was heavy, she couldn't open her eyes very well... She couldn't think...

Ignita was in and out of consciousness. Dark deep bruises began to appear under her white coat. Several dark areas began to bloom over her legs, they seemed rather intact fortunately, though her right hind leg was starting to swell but it wasn't moving in any wrong angle. Another bruise formed over the left side of her ribs. On the same side a dark bruise was forming behind her left ear.

It was twelve minutes when she finally roused enough to moan in pain. She pulled her sore sore sore legs in as close to her body as she could. She hissed as she moved her right hind leg.

"No..o.." She groaned weakly. Her breathing shallow and halted. She couldn't breathe all the way in. Her head hurt like never before. She could only manage to press her face into the soft fur, not present enough to realize anything else but the pain.

"Ignita"

Sprains,  fractured Leg (rb), cracked ribs (left side) concussed.

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

After assessing her wounds, Basilisk realised he was out of his depths. With his options down to the pups, he knew his best bet was Wylan. If the boy was training to be Heir, then it was only right to put him to work. He had his companion fetch the boy while he started to heat up some water. He knew enough that boiling water was important if Wylan needed to stitch anything.

The boy trotted up the path, looking bright eyed and confused as he came to a stop in front of Basilisk. “You needed me?” He asked. Bas nodded his head, and indicated for Wylan to follow him. When he saw the girl - who was just coming to wakefulness, he gasped. “Ignita!” He said, and Basilisk leaned against the entryway, giving the boy room to work.

Wylan started by assessing the wounds for himself, feeling until he found the sprains, fracture, and cracked ribs. He peeled back an eyelid and found the concussion, too. “Here, this will help” He said, pulling some items from the little healer's bag he had brought with him. First, a concoction of meadowsweet, lavender, and ginger for the pain. He grabbed a dollop and pressed it against her lips. “It’ll help” he promised her. While he waited for that to knock the edge off the pain, he got to work assembling what he needed for the fractured leg. Speaking as he worked. “My mumma taught me all this - she’s not here right now, but I’m sure she’ll check in on you the second she’s back. She’s been teaching me my whole life, you’ll be okay, Ignita. You’ll be okay.” he told her, patting wherever was safe to touch.


"Speech"

She moaned weakly every few breaths, and could barely focus on her surroundings. She felt something pressed against her teeth, a sound garbled in her ears about help. Instinctively her tongue lapped up the substance, not even registering the taste through her shaky breaths.

As some of the pain began to dull she started to hear the voice of the Heir. He was telling her she was going to be alright.

"W-wy-lan?" She croaked. She tried to open her eyes but everything was blurry and if she moved her head the pain would grow intensely through the herbs.
What had she done... Son of a Sphinx what happened...

Oh no... The last thing she remembered was working on the wall... really up high... had she fallen? But she had made a landing pad! Did she miss it?

"Wy...lan... d-don.. tell, B-ba... bas... basil... Ba..." She could barely get the words out her ribs hurt too much. "I'll fi-xsss... I'll fix... it... Pleeesss. I-I'm s-ssorry..." She sighed shakily between words. Unaware Basilisk was within earshot.

"I'll... n-n-n-n-nnneverrr-g get... g-gogglessss." She groaned and shuddered. The shock started to make her body shiver as if she was chilled to the bone. Not a sign of seizing, just the shock reverberating through her nervous system.  

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Wylan frowned thoughtfully at his patient. He'd always been pretty good at compartmentalising things. Gore and guts were interesting, and he was able to separate the thought of injuries with that of his friends or loved ones. When he looked at Ignita, he saw a friend. When he looked at her wounds, he saw an interesting learning opportunity.  


As she started to speak, he heard her distress. Almost absent-mindedly he reached down and picked up his little round polar bear companion. Tucking him in next to the injured wolf. “Hug this, doctor's orders” he instructed her. Spud always made him feel better, after all.

He knew he needed to bind her ribs, and make a splint for her leg. He got to work on the splint first, admiring the interesting way that bruises were already sprouting across her body. “You need to hold still” he cautioned her as set her fractured leg and wrapped the splint around it. The pain killers had had time to kick in by now. He paused to smear some aloe vera over her bruises before moving on to her ribs. “How are you feeling?” He asked her.

The small bear placed into her arms offered her some warmth and she could feel the herbals do their work as her body started to relax properly. Her breathing became more even, and her awareness grew more subtly. She was going to be sore for a few days for sure. She kept her eyes closed and focused on her own breathing while he worked. Getting worked up wasn't going to help anything now. She felt another tiny creature settle near her forehead and the scent of her little possum Idalia filled her nose over the scent of the herbs.

"Bet-better." Talking was still a little hard around her ribs but it wasn't nearly as broken and strained, "What... happened?" She asked, letting him maneuver her body to wrap her ribs. He was pretty good at this for being a kid.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Wylan shrugged his wings, Not having an answer. Glancing at the Warlord, Bas spoke through gritted teeth. “We'll talk about it later” he informed her. Assuming that settled that, he finished up binding her ribs. He kissed her brow (that's what his mother did when he was injured, and he assumed it a vital part of the healing process) and leaned back. “She'll need to stay awake with her concussion. Do you want me to stay with her?” He asked, looking at Bas again. The Warlord however shook his head. Thanking the little heir before ushering him out the door. Wylan ensured her possum was snuggled up to her before grabbing his polar bear down again, and promptly left. 


Basilisk placed the goggles beside her bed, just out of her reach, and then proceeded to pretend they didn't exist. “What on EARTH were you thinking?” He demanded now that they were alone.

Ignita did not expect that voice and she felt her blood run cold. The knowledge that Basilisk had witnessed her waking, how he must have found out about her idea in probably the worst way possible... She didn't even remember the crash... She was so wrapped up in how the Warlord found out she barely perceived the cute little kiss on her forehead.

She finally opened her eyes to see the blurry form of Wylan disappearing out the door after Basilisk shook his head. Concussion? That explained why her head hurt so bad... She had to close her eyes again, it was hard to see through the blur.

She heard the warlord move around and place something down nearby, it was then she realized she was laying on something incredibly soft...

Then Ignita flinched and shuddered as the Warlord snapped at her.

"I don... I don't know! I was... I was doing my job!" She really liked her job, she really liked figuring out how to make things better and more efficient.

“Doing your--!” He gaped at her, and extended his claws in his frustration. They clicked against the stone floor beneath him as he paced a short walk across the room. Back and forth. “How is your job climbing the shelves! How did you even get up that high? Do you know how much work my Grandfather put into building them?” He spluttered at her. Pace, pace, pace. 


“The entire storage is a mess, I haven't had a chance to take stock of how much is damaged. Instead I'm here. Babysitting you.” He didn't usually speak so much, but the young Warlord who contained so much of himself couldn't help it. It was all spilling out now. “Betrayal from my family on one side, and a suicidal slave on the other!” He raised a paw and pointed a sharp claw at her. “I didn't drag you all this way so you could get yourself killed. I'm working you up to something. You're going to be someone important to this pack someday.” Dammit, did he say that outloud? He growled at her, as if his confession was her fault. He hadn't really been giving her a chance to get a word in edgewise. “Well?” He demanded “what do you have to say for yourself?”

She flinched at his every word. The click click click of his extended claws nearly made her cheek itch. Oh no... Did she break the shelves? She thought she was careful... Surely she could salvage most of them...
"I'm s-!"

She opened her eyes and shifted her head, it didn't hurt as bad as before, those herbs were helping for sure. Everything still had a fuzzy halo around it. She finally realized she wasn't in the storeroom and the pelt she was lying on was not her thin fox skins. Was this a healer's room? Her companion shifted into her bruised paws.

She watched his massive blurry shadow pace back and forth and began to shake and shiver as he lamented babysitting her.
"I'll fi-!"
She pressed her ears into her skull sulkily and squinted at his pointed claw, bracing for the inevitable slap to her other cheek.

Instead, he revealed a hidden motive for keeping her around and growled.
It took a moment to register, having knocked her self out didn't help her processing speed.

What did she have to say for herself?
"I'm s-sorry! I can- I'll fix... I was... I was... making the store rooms colder.... I was trying to..." every word got quieter and quieter as his last comment started to dawn on her..."Take initiative..."

"Wh... what do you mean?" She asked, blinking through the fog.

He growled at her, but put his paw back on the ground, shuffling them as if he wanted to keep moving but was forcing himself to stand still. “Never mind that.” He told her, brushing past it as if it had never exited his mouth. Maybe her concussion would make her forget it. She was a slave, and he didn’t want to give her illusions of grandeur. She had to work to earn anything, and he would ensure she did.

“Colder? Why? Those stores have worked well for years.” He told her, but innovation was a part of what he wanted from her, so well it was a snapped one the question was genuine. “And why did you fall?” he continued to grill her. Had a shelf broken under her, or had she chosen a foolish method of climbing up there?

"Speech"

She curiously tilted her sore head at him, her golden eyes, though unfocused, darted between his cerulean blues, squinting at him for a silent moment trying to understand.

Slowly she turned away, looking over the ground, still processing. Her gaze roved over a pair of familiar goggles just out of reach and continued on... Until she did a double-take and this time she squinted as if trying to see better.
"My--" She darted her gaze back to him but then had to close her eyes and put her head back into the furs. She moved too fast... ow.

"Colder... Well..." The brain fog was making things staticky, She laid her head on the fur and spoke with her eyes closed for a moment.
"The baths down the hall... were probably affecting the dried stores... and warmth and wet causes food to rot faster. I was chilling... dr-drilling... chiseling a hole up high to funnel cold air into the storerooms. It's how we lived in the desert, our rooms were always comfortable and cool because of the..." She had to catch her breath. "...Windows up high. I figured it would stretch the food longer. I figure we could gather berries and apples in the fall and could still be enjoying them by the end of winter..." She caught her breath again, lifted her head, and looked at her goggles eagerly. Then, slowly this time, brought her blurry gaze back up to Bas, grateful but sheepish.

"I don't remember falling. I made a landing pad... But I guess I missed it. I really am sorry Basilisk. When I'm better I can clear it out. I braced a lot of the shelves and I made ropes and rafts and boards and branches to climb up." An incredulous squeak came from her paws, "Well she helped a lot, made a lot more ropes than I did that's for sure." She admitted warmly, using her chin to rub the top of Idalia's head.

How could she ever be someone... important?

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He listened to her careful explanation. Not interrupting, despite the slow pace of her words as she struggled past the obvious fogginess in her head. What she said made sense, though he didn’t really know the full logistics of it - had never studied food decay. He believed in his grandfather's system, but systems could always be improved, right? “Acceptable.” he said shortly as she stopped to catch her breath.

He did struggle not to make a face as she explained her climbing contraptions. “Climbing is… off limits without supervision from now on. At least, that sort of climbing. understood? “ he said, holding eye contact to ensure she did before continuing. “You’re in the spare room of the Warlor--my den at the moment. You’ll stay here until you recover. If you need anything.. Drawing books, meds for your… heat. Tell me, and I’ll fetch them for you. But don’t get used to it, I'm not your errand boy.” he said, adding a growl back to his voice again.


"Speech"

Acceptable? Really? She perked her ears up at him, her tail weakly swayed over the furs. She was so... so tired, but Wylan said she needed to be awake.

No climbing. Yep, No more climbing for this one. She held his gaze and gently shook her head in agreement. It turns out she was not related to cats and could not land on her feet from a height. She didn't need to do another experiment for that.

Ignita tilted her head again and frowned, squinted, confused, the spare room of his den? HIS den? She was brought here? Who brought her here? Did Wylan bring her here?

"Your den? Who brought me here? And... my heat? Is that a fever? Something with my... concussion?" She asked, completely oblivious. No one had ever taught her the fine art of... conceiving. The poor girl was stolen as a child and raised as the brunt of a bad joke, while also being spoiled as her adopted(read kidnapper) parent's favorite back in the deserts of the mainland.

She could never be anyone important.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He frowned at her. She really had been out of it when he had dragged her back to his den. No surprise there after hearing just how badly she had hurt herself from Wylan. “I did. When I pulled you out of the wreckage of my storage room.” He grumbled at her. She ignored his mention of sketchbooks, despite having seen for himself her compulsive need to draw. Scribble. He wondered if that one of Spider was lost now amongst the mess she had made.

“Your… heat. No, not… you know, your yearly…” he blinked, registering the blank look in her expression as he fumbled his words. “Has no one explained conception to you?” he asked in horror. No, please. Anyone but him. “When a woman… reaches adulthood… each season of her birth she… goes into heat… which means she can… bare children.” his cheeks were flaming. He thought he might combust right then and there.


"Speech"

Ignita blinked.

He found her... He carried her all the way to his den... He didn't just leave her there... She started putting the pieces together. He called for Wylan to heal her... He... He had plans to somehow make her important...

She blinked again, registering that he was also explaining what a heat meant. It was currently the season of her birth.... Oh was that the weird clammy feelings? Was that why she was thinking of...

Oooh that's why they were all laughing around her first birthday...

He seemed very embarrassed for some reason.
"Thank you. No, no one told me. Whenever I tried asking around about conception... The teasing just seemed to get worse. I had to figure out a lot of things on my own."

She layed her head down, he cared about her. In some rough way. She glanced at her goggles laid carefully where he placed them. In his own way he cared about her. Had anyone ever really cared about her before? She felt the little possum shift into the crook of her neck.

"Thank you for helping me. I would like to have something to sketch with please." She seemed deep in thought, she asked for it absently. Half lost in memories about being bullied, half lost in what the future held.

Just before he left to get the supplies she asked another question.

"Are you going to make me important by making me have someone's important kids?" She asked frankly. He had a mate already, she was pretty. He had Spider, but they were adopted... Was Hazel not able to have kids?

What made someone important?

Basilisk frowned at that. He’d never actually asked about her life before, where she had come from. Perhaps he should have considered it earlier, seeing how obviously no one cared enough to find out where she had gone. It was easier to simply call her a slave and be done with it. “A strange thing to tease about. I can have one of the healers put together a bag to alleviate some of the feelings. I believe it comes as a form of tea.” He explained. He had obviously never taken it himself. But his grandfather had always ensured his kids and grandkids knew the basics of life.

He rose to his paws to fetch her the things he had promised. He would give her a few days, and then they would go back to their old dynamic, where she would do as he bid or regret it. He was almost to the door when he stopped, and turned to her. “No, that’s not what I have in mind. Slaves are not allowed to bear children, you should keep that in mind.” He warned her, and trotted off to fetch what he needed.

--

He returned with the tea he had fetched from Halo’s den - with Wylans help - a sketchbox, and a small platter of food, along with some other herbs Wylan had told him she needed. He placed the food next to her first. “The honeydrops are from Wylan, he said he made them himself. The herbs he said to take once a day for pain, and they can be taken with this form of contraception, which you can make into a tea or take the leaves alone.” He explained, and placed the sketchbook and some writing utensils down next.


"Speech"

She didn't know it was a strange thing to be teased about, maybe everything she had been teased about was strange. She was grateful to know that her heat could at least be made more comfortable.

Still a slave then, though. Songbird is just pretty wrapping on the same pile of shit.

When she was alone she couldn't help her weeping. She tried to keep it quiet, her body had just gone through the wringer and though the herbs from Wylan helped to take the edge off she she still had a deep ache within her. Her ribs still made some deep breathing difficult.

When he came back she was struggling to stay awake, wet tears silently glistened on her cheeks. She couldn't wipe them away, every movement a struggle.

She at least lifted her head slowly when he came back in and listened to his instructions. nodded her head understanding.

She looked at the sketching supplies. her paws and legs hurt too much, her head hurt too much. Even with the meds.

Might as well ask questions until he tells her to stop.
"Why did you take me as a slave? Why didn't you recruit me differently?" Did everyone who was not born here taken as a slave first?

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He made to leave - he still had a storeroom to deal with after all - but her question gave him pause. He hesitated, and then sat at the edge of her bed. His behemoth form struggling to take up only a little room. “Alright, then.” He said, a little thoughtfully. “I could give you a pretty answer, if it makes you feel better. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was telling her the truth. If she hadn’t fallen, he wouldn’t have. And what did that imply about himself? Perhaps he was softer than he should be for this rank. Maybe he’d beat up some puppies later, just to prove he could. Not really.

”But the truth is, I did not expect to be made Warlord for many, many years. My father bailed shortly before my grandfather retired. I have… a lot to prove, as you might have figured when you patched me up. That happened not five minutes after I held the crown, my Aunt challenged me for the pack, and when she left she took some wolves with her. Taking a slave was both a powermove, and to pull someone into my corner. I needed you to patch me up, and you did.” He needed her, though it wasn’t a fun thing to admit to.


"Speech"