There was a lot to consider with the rank of Warlord. The dynamics of the packs around him were largely unknown to him. The less he knew, the less prepared he could be. Making plans with Hazel, he grabbed his companions and set out to get to know the packs of Boreas. Leaving the pack so freshly after becoming Warlord was no easy thing, but he knew that Hazel would handle anything that came up.

His first stop was the pack that had taken territory in The Range. He believed them to be a relatively peaceful pack, and had met their alpha briefly when he had searched for his father. Now, he needed to know a little more. He approached the border, and came to a stop a respectful distance from him. He raised his head, and called out for its Alpha.


"Basilisk Fatalis"

A vaguely familiar call rose over the range for her, and Corbie wasted no time before setting aside what she was doing to answer it. Ren at her side, though leaving Tam with the sheep and Ayer continuing to weave baskets next to him, she trotted to the border. The sight that greeted her was vaguely familiar as well, and after a moment she placed him as one of the Fatalis wolves, Azure's son who she'd met very briefly. He was just as he remembered him, fully the largest wolf she'd ever seen in her life, large as many bears and almost more bear-like than wolf-like in many ways. "Basilisk," she greeted him with a nod after a moment to search for his name. "A pleasure to see you again. What can I do for you today?" She hoped that the circumstances were less dire for him this time.

The Alpha arrived in good time to her border, and the semi-familiar form of the older wolf came to a stop before him. She remembered his name, and greeted him with a nod that he returned. “Corbie” he said in greeting. He didn’t mention the last time they had met - there had been no satisfactory conclusion to his search.

“I’ve come to you as the new Warlord of the Armada, to discuss relations between our packs. I don’t know where you stood with Sirius, but I’d like to discuss opening up trade between us” he explained. Her farm-like pack had access to domesticated animals, which Iggy assured him would be beneficial for them.


"Basilisk Fatalis"

Basilisk introduced himself as the new warlord of the Armada - a title that made her sigh internally - and Corbie nodded. "I wish you the best with your new responsibilities," she told him politely. He brought up the possibility of trade, which piqued her interest. "Certainly we would be interested in trade." She was wary about offering too much information about what goods they had, after the viking wolves had crept in like thieves in the night to raid them, but she couldn't spend her life looking over her shoulder expecting betrayal of her trust or she'd never accomplish anything. "We mostly offer sheepskins, woven wool products, meads, and pottery, but we do also offer raw materials in the form of wool, honey, and sheep, and we are always willing to offer training in any of our skills. What was it you were looking to acquire?"

”Ah, thank you” he said, a little surprised with her well wishing. He didn’t know where she had stood with the Armada, but so far his interactions with her had all been cordial. She sounded interested in trade, which could prove to be promising. He made a mental note of the resources she believed she could offer.

“If I could interest you in trading a sample of each of your materials - minus the sheep - my pack could decide for themselves what they like. In return, I can offer materials mined from the mountains, goods crafted with leather and metal work.” He placed his offer between them


"Basilisk Fatalis"

He seemed a little surprised at her well wishes, and she wondered if perhaps he had been given a hard time elsewhere for his new title, or if he was just feeling a bit awkward over the newness of diplomacy. She wondered too, with a hint of mischief, if he'd have believed how new she still was to diplomacy despite having been an alpha for some time now.

"Certainly!" she answered him, a smile brightening on her face. "You can imagine we don't have much in the way of metals coming out of here." She laughed, gesturing to the very gently rolling hills and forests of the pack lands behind her. Sure, there was the old battlefields nearby, but scavenging for metals that might or might not fit what you were hoping for was far less efficient than trading for premade kit. "If you want, you can come in for some tea or a cup of mead while I put a pack together for you to take back for your wolves to look through?"

He did glance behind her at the fields and forests, and silently agreed that it wasn’t exactly the right sort of landscape for mining. “That would be excellent, thank you Corbie. I’ll return in a day or so with some samples of our own resources, and trade can go from there.” He suggested. He would have Ignita and Charlie both look over what she supplied. He trusted their expertise.

He took a step over the border to follow her to wherever she wished to set him up while he waited. “I wouldn’t say no to mead” he agreed, knowing it would remind him of Halo. He hoped she was okay, wherever she was.


"Basilisk Fatalis"

She quickly led him over to the barn, past the sheep pastures which was a bit of a risk given how many wolf packs seemed intent on raiding for them, but would give him the chance to at least see what livestock he might consider trading for. She set a cup by the fire and after a moment of thought to pick the type she brought back a bottle of a light, apple-infused mead she thought might be more refreshing after a long journey than something with more kick. She left it and the cup with Bas while she went to rummage through the stores in the back of the barn.

In the end, she decided on a few samples to send: a light shawl made of the finer wool and patterned in a dyed pale blue against a natural cream; a heavier bedroll made of the thicker wools for durability and woven in relaxing patterns built of the natural browns, blacks, and creams of the sheep; a few small balls of already carded roving, some dyed and some of the natural colors; a well-sealed jar of a delicate floral honey, the jar a good example of their pottery as well with its glazed-in patterns; a couple of glazed pottery bottles with an example of a stronger mead as well as a cherry mead, and she'd send what was left of the apple mead with him as well; a well-preserved lambskin large enough for a litter of young pups to nap on; and, carefully wrapping all the others with the skin side out, a tanned sheepskin from an adult sheep, less soft but more durable than the lambskin, from a black and white patterned sheep.

She buckled straps around the whole package to make it easy to transport, then went trotting back to the fire on the open side of the barn where she'd left Bas and set it down next to him, giving him a bright smile. "How's the mead?" she asked.

Basilisk looked about himself with some curiosity as the other leader led him through her pack. The scent of sheep reached him before he passed the livestock pastures, and he did pay attention to what she had. He’d need to decide what if any he’d find worthy to trade for.

“Thank you” He said, seating his long limbs by the fire as he sampled the mead she had brought back for him. It was vastly different to what they had in the Armada. Especially when apples would be considered a novelty in his pack. When she returned, it was with a fairly well packed skin full of interesting scents. “You’re trusting me, giving me the samples first. I won’t forget it, Corbie” He told her solemnly, intending to put together his own package once he’d gotten back to the pack. “The mead is good, vastly different to what we have in the Armada. I’ll include some of our own alcohol in the samples” he said with a grin


"Basilisk Fatalis"

Corbie flashed the bigger alpha a quick smile. "I've never heard it said that the Fatalis didn't keep their promises, and your pack has worked hard to build a reputation as somewhere wolves can trade freely. You wouldn't risk that reputation to run away with a few samples. I'm not worried," she said teasingly. He waxed enthusiastic about the apple mead, and Corbie couldn't help but preen over it. The mead had always been her pet project, ever since she'd been nomadic with Tornach as a child, trying to recreate what vague memories she had of her mother's craft, so hearing someone praise it was particularly gratifying. "I'll look forward to it," she assured him, intrigued by what the bigger, northern pack produced.

Corbie had a natural talent for interacting with other wolves. Her praise felt natural and honest, and he dipped his head in acknowledgment of it. The market had been his Grandfather's pet project, but he saw no reason to change things now.

“Thank you for the mead, and the company Corbie. I’ll be by soon with a sample of the Armada’s wares” He promised her, giving another short dip of his head, this time to indicate the end of their interaction. So far, he felt that Corbie was an interesting wolf and there was promise for what that might mean for their packs.


"Basilisk Fatalis"