Basilisk might be as tall as a polar bear, but once they were on their hind legs they towered over even him. All the same, he had been foolish enough to take one on alone. He had come out the victor, but he came away with a bad gash on one foreleg, and down his side. 

Blood mattered his fur as he staggered into the woods. He knew he needed to get to Wylan, or perhaps even his new slave. But once he crossed over the scent marking into Armada, the sense of relief stole away his strength. He staggered into the tall grass, and seated himself gingerly on the ground. Just a short break, then.

Oleander was gathering some fresh herbs when a strong scent crossed his nose and made his fur stand on end. The rusty tang of blood, bear and Basilisk wafted toward him from the borders. Had the Warlord gone hunting and things went awry?

Viridian eyes scanned the border as he loped towards it, after grabbing a trauma kit full to the brim. The great black and blue Warlord was hard to miss sitting on the edge of the scent line taking an uncharacteristic breather.

He wondered if Bas even remembered him, the sickly pup in the healers den for the entire first year of it's life. Ollie wouldn't be surprised if some had assumed he actually died.

"Basilisk?" The pale boy called out, healers kit at the ready, "Whatgotchu?" He asked making a wide circle around the titan leader.

"Speech"

While he sat there trying to catch his breath, the small form of one of his cousins appeared. He didn't know the wolf well, but he was attempting to learn the names of all in his pack. The pale form and markings gave this one away. “Ollie” he said, voice a little rough. He hadn't expected anyone to stumble upon him out here.


He dragged his front half up a little and turned so that the young wolf could see the scrap down his side from the bear's claws. “Tried to wrestle with a polar bear.” He explained with a sigh, one that turned into a slow grin. “If you drag the body back for me, you can have half the coat in trade.” A valuable gift, considering how rarely a wolf went against the dangerous predators.

Ollie raised a brow at him, there was no way his slim figure was going to be able to lift much of the bear on his own.
"Would that I could Cuz, but I can get that nasty gash for ye." He said opening up the kit and rifling through it. Did he need to sew this gash? Seemed deep, and the blood was still leaking, but it was long too.
"Wy and a few others might need to grab that bear skin, I'm still not quite strong enough." Maybe next season he'd get more of that lean muscle. He grabbed some yarrow and crushed it up, carefully stuffing it in the places still oozing fresh blood along the gash. Two of the slashes were certainly deeper than the others.
"That'll at least keep you from losing more blood. I wanna get you closer to the den so I can get it properly cleaned." Wash it with some stiptik tincture to disinfect it then sew it up properly there. He'd been practicing his sewing skills on a few plants and dead rabbits. He wanted to be as good as it as his mom was.

Basilisk gave a soft, pained sigh. He hadn't wrestled the polar bear for nothing. But he could understand where Ollie was coming from. Sometimes, he forgot the limitations of the little wolves around him. “Alright.” He agreed, seeing that he had no choice but to comply. Oleander had been raised in a healers den, hopefully that meant he'd picked something up. 


“Have you had much healer training?” He asked the white wolf, but the answer came in action before words. The yearling stuffed herbs in his seeping wounds. He yelped and turned his head, bearing his teeth at the other wolf. Before he could demand what the hell he was doing, he explained that it would stop the bleeding. “I hope you know what you're doing,” he grouched. But he did get back to his paws with a groan, so he could follow the other back to his den.

Oleander flinched as the warlords teeth bared against him but tried to brush it off nonchalantly. Right, right, take better care to warn the patients about what he was doing before going into it. He was so used to being fed, healed and coddled without much energy to respond to it as a child he forgot that others needed more of a warning. His mother wouldn't have flinched. Right? Right. Maybe?
Anyway.

"Well yeah, sort of." He responded to the training question as he quickly packed the kit together and walked with him, at least the den wouldn't be far.

"I figured out that alcohol gets the herbal medicines out better in concentrated solutions. And it keeps longer. If you remember I'm the kid that was always sick. Healing and herbs and plants is literally all I know." He said shrugging. He never got out much to wrestle with his siblings or explore much of the Col before he turned a year. Or got many lessons in how not to treat the Warlord like one of his brothers.

He indicated to Basilisk to settle by the healers den entrance and ducked in to grab the sewing kit and a few different herbal tinctures he had made several weeks ago.

"Now you can't go grabbing these to get drunk on em like ya did when Mom was in charge." He said as he placed them next to Bas. "These are typically stronger than teas." He grabbed a bowl and splashed a bit of thyme tincture then diluted it with some normal mead.

"You drink this, it'll take care of any internal infections." He then grabbed the large bottle of yarrow tincture he diluted in a larger bowl with plain water. Just before he dipped a cloth in it he paused.
"I'm going to try to wash these out, it will sting... Then I can sew some of the larger gashes up. You okay with that?" He asked, he didn't want giant teeth in his face again.

"Speech"

“I remember” Basilisk said gruffly, he’d spent enough time around Halo all his life. The prattle about the concentration of solutions went in one ear and out the other. He didn’t have much interest in healing. He knew even less than his Grandfather, who had at least learned the basics of trauma care in order to keep men alive on the battlefield. Basilisk’s raising had been a little less… intense.

When Ollie returned to him, and warned him off the alcohol, the Warlord raised a brow. A little amused. “Everything in this pack belongs to me. Including you.” He said, voice dry enough that the other wolf might hesitate to tell if he was joking or not. Did this wolf consider himself in charge of the healer's den now? That was interesting.

“Do what you have to” Basilisk agreed, braced for the pain now. Mostly to distract himself while the other worked, he talked. “So, you shooting for the lead healer position then?”

"Speech"

Oh good! So he had remembered! He wasn't some forgotten weak whelp to the great Lord of Armada. It made his tail wiggle much like Wylans when they were both happy. The movement paused though when Bas mentioned he owned everything in the pack, including Ollie himself. The boy tilted his head and furrowed his brows. Was Bas playing with his slaves a little too much lately? He wondered what Wyl would say to that, or Dad for that matter.

He decided to not comment on that little tidbit, still trying to figure out if he was serious, joking or delusional. He didn't have much knowledge in the delusions department so he couldn't remark on that well.

He began his work and while wiping the grit and blood out of the wounds and disinfecting them from who knows what was in those bear claws, he was taken aback some by the implications of his patients question. Shooting for lead healer? Wasn't that Mom's spot? Well... She left.  But she was coming back right? Maybe until she came back. She would be so proud of him if he stepped up and kept her seat warm so to speak!
"I guess I could, maybe just until mom comes back though. I could try and keep the den warm for her and make sure all the tinctures and herbs are all stocked up!"
When he was done wiping the wounds the bowl of disinfectant was dark red and bits of herb and the rag soaked. Thankfully the herbs he had placed there earlier had made the profuse bleeding stop.

"Okay time to sew you up, might hurt some more. I've practiced a bunch though." He said washing his hands and grabbing the needle, threading it with slim string, soaked in hawksbeard tincture to help with inflammation, pain and keep out any bacteria.

Basilisk gave a little more of an honest smile then, glancing over at the white wolf. “Your mother is a very important person to me. She will always have a high spot in the Armada whenever she returns. But until then, the Armada needs someone to keep everyone in good health.” He explained. He wasn’t sure what exactly he would do when/if Halo returned, but it had already been made clear to him that he and the Armada both suffered without a healer in charge.

He had considered Wylan, but that pup was also Heir, and didn’t seem to take things seriously. There was Marina, but there would be a long way to go before she was trustworthy. Ollie seemed like he had the capacity to be professional, and take an interest in the job.

Somehow ‘i’ve practised a bunch’ didn’t sound very comforting. “You’ve done this on a wolf before, right?” He asked dubious as he watched Ollie set up.


"Speech"

If that was the case, then did Bas own Halo too? But he let her go, he let her go with his brother and sister. He bit his lip to keep himself from blurting it out loud. It was a close call between his juvenile brain and quick mouth.

Armada needed someone to keep everyone in good health, offer checkups, cure the occasional pest, tend the garden and everything else that was part of the title, it was a big job. He was a young lad. Would he be up to the task?

"Okay, I'll shoot for the title then." He said with aplomb, "If I don't measure up ya can toss me from the treehouse." He said with a juvenile chuckle, believing he was being a clever smart-ass.

"Of course!" He lied with ease, he knew what he was doing, and wouldn't want to worry his patient unnecessarily. They always became more flinchy if they were worried about their doctor's skill.

Indeed, he slipped the needle over the slash with a practiced quickness. He used both paws to slip the needle and thread in and out in a ladder like fashion then pulled the thread taught that brought the skin together with little puckering. He was done one slash before Bas could remark on his ability. "One done, I think I'll do one more, the other two aren't deep enough to warrant it." He said washing the needle in some alcohol and lashing a new thread to it.

"Speech"

“That’ll be good to see” Basilisk said, knowing he would be calling on Oleander a lot from here on out. The more practice, the better. It would give him a chance to see the other wolf in action, and assess their abilities. Assessing a healer really should have been Halo’s duty, but circumstances had stolen that chance from him.

With the last of the adrenaline leaving his body, Basilisk couldn’t deny how groggy he felt as Ollie came to him with his needle, and began his work. He winced, but didn’t growl at the young healer this time. This time, everything was expected. He still wasn’t completely comforted by their words, but he was somewhat mollified. So he stayed still, resting his head on his paw as he waited for the job to be finished.


"Speech"

Setting his needle and thread again, then soaking it in the Hawksbeard tincture, he went to work again at the next slash. Ladder-like fashion, in and out, pull gently, bring sliced flesh together smoothly, tie it off, done! In less than four minutes two whole slashes had been done up and tied off. The scar would be barely visible and probably covered by fur.

He took the rag and dabbed his work, soaking up the access alcohol and wound ooze.
"There, all set. Any other concerns about this fight with the bear?" He asked checking his patient's expression and noting some drowsiness. Would he let Ollie lead him up to his bed or would he try and get there himself? Might check in on Bas's little slave girl while he was there.

"Speech"

Basilisk turned his head a little so he could watch the little wolf work on his wounds. He did look comfortable, methodical, doing it. It was a nice change from Iggy's hap-hazard sawing that had left a scar. Karma, perhaps, since she wore a scar from him as well.

“Just the coat retrieval.” He said, bringing that back up as Ollie checked in with him. He rubbed a paw over his head, and acknowledged that he probably wasn’t getting enough sleep lately. Who knew that leading a pack could be considered stressful? “Actually, got any teas squirrelled away in your mothers den to help with sleep?” he asked. He knew his Grandfather had occasionally relied on them from Halo, so perhaps there would be something left from that.


"Speech"

Right, didn't want to give up that coat. Not with Winter coming in so quick. He started to wash the supplies and carefully put them back in the sewing kit. The movement of Basilisk's paw over his head as if he had a headache caught his eye. He was probably going to complain about sleep in three two... one..
"Sure do, depends on what kind of sleep you're struggling with though. Ya got lots of worries, lots of body aches, or some tummy troubles?" He asked to his tools, keeping a white ear on the Warlord's answer. Oleander typically struggled with tummy troubles and body aches most nights if he wasn't as careful about his diet.

Based on Basilisks answer he would dive in and grab a bundle of herbs in a bowl for tea and give it to him.

"Speech"

“It’s definitely the mental load keeping me awake” He said, a little grudgingly. He was still a little weary about admitting to any weaknesses. Even if Ollie had just found him beaten up at the border. After how his family had treated the transfer of power, he wasn’t feeling wholly trusting of them. Though Ollie at least was a little removed from it all. Perhaps that was a part also of why he liked him for the rank.

He accepted the bowl when it was given to him, holding it a little awkwardly. “Alright, I’m heading back to my den. I’ll get Iggy to sort the retrieval” he decided. The pack could probably spare him for a little while.


"Speech"