Yara Grey

The moon cast a silvery glow over Dreamer's Col, its light reflecting off the jagged peaks of the dangerous mountain range. Yara Grey moved silently through the shadows, her stormy grey pelt blending seamlessly with the rocky terrain. The treacherous path was fraught with peril—loose rocks threatened to give way beneath her paws, and the ominous rumble of distant avalanches echoed through the night. But Yara’s determination was unwavering. She had come to Armada Territory with a purpose: to steal from the unattended market stalls at the base of the mountain.

As she neared the market, the smell of clay and damp earth from the nearby caverns filled her nostrils. She kept to the shadows, her sun-yellow eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. The market was nestled in a small, sheltered area, its stalls filled with various goods left overnight. Yara’s heart raced as she spotted her target: a stall laden with dried meats and herbs, perfect for a thief on the move.

She moved with the precision of a seasoned predator, each step deliberate and silent. The thick, plush fur of her stormy coat rippled with every movement, creating the illusion of swirling clouds caught in perpetual motion. Yara paused at the edge of the market, her ears perked and eyes alert. Satisfied that she was alone, she darted forward, her slender frame making her nearly invisible in the dim light.

Reaching the stall, Yara’s claws gently scratched the wooden surface as she pried open a loosely tied bundle of dried meats. Her sharp teeth made quick work of the bindings, and she began to stuff the meat into a makeshift pouch she carried with her for this night. The purple sheen of her fur shimmered faintly in the moonlight, casting an almost ghostly glow around her as she worked.

Suddenly, a faint noise reached her ears - the sound of dripping water from the nearby caverns, amplified by the stillness of the night. Yara’s heart skipped a beat as she froze, every sense on high alert. She held her breath, listening intently for any other sounds. After a few tense moments, she resumed her task, her movements even more cautious than before.

CODE BY SIN

Restlessness brought Basilisk out of his den in the wee hours of the night. When the moonlight clung to the stones as the only source of light in the empty Col. Restlessness took him to the heart of the pack, but perhaps it was fate that brought him to the Market. He did not usually walk that path in the night, but something drew him to the faintly lit cavern, and as he entered that space he found his guard on duty asleep at their post.


Instead of waking them with a growl, he stepped quietly into the space where strangers were allowed to roam in daylight hours. His cat claws sheathed, his furred paws made no move as he walked the stone. 


There was the sense that something stirred deeper within, and so he walked. Silently and deadly until his eyes fell on a wolf the tones of moonlight. As of the moon herself had stepped into his territory.


“There will be consequences for that.” He warned her, not as if the idea displeased him

Yara Grey

Yara's heart pounded like a war drum at the sudden sound of Basilisk’s voice. The air seemed to thicken around her, each breath a struggle as the realization of her predicament sank in. For a fleeting moment, she stood motionless, her stormy grey form blending into the shadows as if she might dissolve into them and disappear entirely.

But then instinct kicked in, a primal surge of energy that coursed through her veins like wildfire. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on her as she spun around, muscles coiled and ready to spring. Her sun-yellow eyes locked onto the colossal creature's figure standing ominously in the dim light. Despite the danger, a shiver of admiration ran through her; his sheer size and presence were both terrifying and captivating, like a force of nature.

With a burst of speed, Yara leaped away from the stall, the stolen meats forgotten in her desperate flight. The rocky terrain beneath her paws felt like an old adversary, each step a calculated risk as she navigated the treacherous path. Her thick, plush fur rippled like storm clouds, the silvery tips catching the moonlight and creating an almost ghostly trail behind her.

The night was alive with the sound of her rapid breaths, the soft thud of her paws on the ground, and the distant, haunting echo of dripping water from the caverns. Her heart raced, not just from the exertion but from the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline sharpening her senses to a razor's edge. Every shadow seemed to come alive, every rock and crevice a potential obstacle or hiding place.

Yara’s mind raced as fast as her paws, thoughts flickering like lightning across a stormy sky. She had to lose him, had to find a way to outmaneuver the powerful giant on his own territory. Yet, the memory of his imposing figure, those fangs glinting in the dim light, lingered in her thoughts, a tantalizing reminder of the danger and allure he represented. The thrill of the hunt and the dread of capture wove together in a dangerous dance, pushing her to run faster, think quicker, and hope that she could escape the consequences Basilisk had promised.

Yet, even as she ran, a part of her knew that this chase was far from over. The night was still young, and surely what had to be the leader of Armada was not one to give up so easily. The echo of his presence lingered in the air, a dark promise that her escape was merely the beginning of a much larger game.

CODE BY SIN

She bolted like a rabbit, and Basilisk delighted in the sudden run. The harder she made it for him, the stronger her consequences would be. As she shot away from the stall, Basilisk leaped forward. The colossal giant moved with surprising agility, vaulting the table as if it wasn't there at all. His paws hit the ground with force, and he used that momentum to drive himself forward.  “Run, little rabbit!” He called after her, feeling the adrenaline spike through his system. The thrill of the chase was on, and he wasn't sure yet how far he would go.


His prey made it to the cavern entrance, and out into the night. She glowed in the moonlight, her coal a pearly shine, and he followed the blaze. Grinning under his breath, because he had no intention of fighting fair. His reindeer was already trotting into position. Guided by the falcon above them. Moving to cut off her direction, and force her into a thicket of his choosing.

Yara Grey

Yara's paws barely touched the ground as she sprinted out of the cavern entrance, the thrill of the chase fueling her speed. The echo of the beast's taunting words reverberated in her ears, urging her to push harder, run faster. She could hear him behind her, the colossal giant moving with a terrifying swiftness that belied his size. The moonlight bathed the world in silver, turning the rocky terrain into a shimmering, ghostly landscape.

As she burst out of the cavern and into the open night, Yara's mind raced, searching for any possible escape route. The path ahead seemed clear, but she knew better than to trust appearances. Basilisk's reindeer and falcon began closing in, guided by his strategic mind and their keen senses.

The reindeer's heavy footfalls and the falcon flapping wings filled the air, closing in from different directions. Yara's heart pounded, but she forced herself to stay calm, to think quickly. She darted to her left side, weaving through the rocks and underbrush with the agility of a seasoned predator. Her stormy grey pelt blended with the shadows, making her nearly invisible in the moonlight.

As they continued to pursue her, Yara veered towards a dense thicket. The branches and undergrowth formed a natural barrier, offering potential cover and a chance to lose the giant and his companions. She plunged into the thicket, feeling the scratch of twigs and leaves against her fur.

The dense foliage offered Yara much-needed concealment from the keen eyes of Basilisk's falcon. She twisted and turned, making her way deeper into the thicket, her breaths coming in rapid, controlled bursts. The sounds of her pursuers grew fainter as she maneuvered through the maze of branches and leaves.

But the thicket was unfamiliar territory, and Yara soon found herself disoriented. The moonlight barely penetrated the dense canopy, casting everything in deep shadows. She paused for a moment, listening intently for any signs of pursuit. The falcon's wings had grown distant, and the reindeer's heavy footfalls were now a faint rumble.

Yara took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. She needed to find a way out, to regroup and plan her next move. The thrill of the chase still tingled in her veins, but now it was tempered by the urgent need to escape. With cautious, deliberate steps, she began to navigate the thicket, seeking a path that would lead her away from the danger and back to the safety of the shadows.

CODE BY SIN

She responded exactly as he had intended. His gullible little rabbit acted as any prey would. When offered the opportunity to dive into a thicket, she took it. He let his steps and breathing slow, trusting the sharp eyes of his falcon to catch the occasional glimpse of her. He moved around the thicket, watching, waiting.


He sent his Wyrm ahead. The one of a kind creature folded her wings and slithered through the undergrowth with the ease of a snake. He knew the moment she had located their prey. He heard her hiss, and followed the noise. Moving as close as he could to the silver wolf without touching the undergrowth. 


The Wyrm Larimer rose up, spreading out her wings and hissed a few breaths from the wolf who was a rabbit. “She's deathly poisonous.” He lied with smooth ease. “One bite and you'll be writhing on the floor in the worst agony of your life before you die. I've seen wolves bitten by her attempt to claw their own face off. You can take that route, if you like.” He said, sounding eager for her to take that path. “Or you can surrender yourself to me now.”

Yara Grey

Yara's ears twitched at the soft hiss that cut through the stillness of the thicket. Her sun-yellow eyes darted to the source of the sound, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw the serpentine form of Basilisk's Wyrm Larimer, rising from the undergrowth. The creature's wings spread out, casting eerie shadows in the moonlight.

Basilisk's voice, smooth and threatening, reached her ears. “She's deathly poisonous. One bite and you'll be writhing on the floor in the worst agony of your life before you die. I've seen wolves bitten by her attempt to claw their own face off. You can take that route, if you like. Or you can surrender yourself to me now.”

Yara's mind raced, weighing her options. The creature before her was unlike anything she had encountered, and the threat of its poison was terrifying. The ambition and fire within her were strong, but the desire to live, to survive, was stronger.

With a deep breath, Yara made a choice. She couldn't risk the agony and death described by the intimidating wolf. Her sharp eyes darted around, seeking any possible escape, but the presence of the Wyrm and the imposing figure of her pursuer left her with little choice.

Slowly, she stepped back from the undergrowth, her ears flattening slightly in submission. "I yield," she said, her voice steady but laced with an undertone of reluctance. Her body tensed, ready to react if the situation took a worse turn, but for now, she complied.

Her heart pounded as she stood there, her mind still racing with plans and contingencies. She would bide her time, wait for the right moment to break free. For now, she would have to play along, hoping that her captor would show a shred of mercy or a moment of weakness she could exploit.

As she met the eyes of the towering wolf before her, she held onto the defiance burning within her. She might have been forced into submission, but her spirit remained unbroken. She would find a way out of this, no matter what it took.

CODE BY SIN

It didn't take long for her to make her choice. He imagined what her surprise would look like once she learned how she had been deceived. He smiled darkly at her form as it slunk from the underbrush. Her ears slicked back, as she stopped before him and met his eyes. He held her gaze for a moment, allowing this defiance. She would find no warmth in the arctic blue of his eyes.


“For the crime of trespassing-” The market after hours belonged to the pack. She had stepped where she was not welcome-”and for the crime of stealing…” he paused, his smile sly as he corrected himself. “Attempted thief.” He said with some satisfaction “I am taking you as an Armada wolf. A slave. Mine.” a dangerous thing to be. He leaned forward, his incredible size towering over her as he smiled, displaying his elongated fangs and the hint of snake in his strange eyes. “Submit to me. On your back.” He ordered her, the pose of a fully submissive wolf. Lymair hissed behind her to remind her of the Wyrm's presence. When the wolf complied, he leaned forward and gently nipped her exposed throat. Holding her life in his jaws for a brief moment before releasing her. “Come with me, Armada slave, wolf of mine. I'll explain a few things to you. A slave will have the opportunity to fight for their freedom, or a position in the pack. But first, they must earn that right…” He explained as he walked.

Yara Grey

Yara's body stiffened as Basilisk's dark smile pierced her resolve. The command to submit, to roll over and expose her throat, was a direct assault on her pride and spirit. Humiliation burned through her like a wildfire, but the hiss of the Wyrm and the sight of Basilisk's elongated fangs left her with little choice. The towering wolf's presence was overwhelming, his arctic blue eyes devoid of warmth or mercy.

As she slowly sank to the ground, rolling onto her back, confusion struck her like a bolt of lightning. Despite the humiliation and fear, there was an unexpected thrill at feeling Basilisk so close, his dominance palpable. It was a bewildering mix of emotions—captivation and terror interwoven. Her thoughts flickered to Eirik, her little brother and only surviving family member, whose disappearance had left a void in her heart. The hope of seeing him again gave her the strength to endure this moment of degradation. She had to survive for the chance to find Eirik and bring him home.

The gentle pressure of Basilisk's sharp teeth on her exposed throat sent a shiver down her spine, a stark reminder of the precariousness of her situation. He held her life in his jaws for a brief moment, then released her, the threat implicit in his actions. She swallowed her pride, her mind racing with plans and contingencies, determined to find a way out of this servitude. Every thought was focused on Eirik; finding him was her sole purpose. The memory of his laughter and the bond they shared fueled her determination. She would endure this, for him.

As she rose to her paws, Yara kept her gaze low, but her mind remained sharp and defiant. She followed Basilisk, listening intently as he spoke of the opportunity to fight for her freedom or a position in the pack. The prospect of earning her way out of slavery was a small glimmer of hope, a challenge she was willing to accept.

Her body ached from the submission, her spirit bruised but unbroken. As they walked, Yara replayed her memories of Eirik, his laughter, his smile. She would endure this humiliation for him, for the chance to see him again. The thought of her brother fueled her determination, steeling her resolve. From this moment forward, she knew she would no longer be free to act as she wished; she decided then to play the role of a possession, just as he desired.

When Basilisk paused, she stood still, her eyes focused on the ground but her mind alert. She listened carefully to his instructions, memorizing every detail. She would bide her time, learn the ways of the pack, and seize any opportunity to regain her freedom. Her ambition and resilience would see her through this trial.

"Yes, master," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. She would play the role of the obedient slave, but her spirit remained defiant. She would find a way to rise above this, to reclaim her freedom and continue her search for Eirik. Until then, she would endure, learn, and wait for the right moment to strike.

CODE BY SIN

Basilisk glanced at his new wolf with a faint hint of amusement. She seemed to slip into the roll easily enough, despite the defiance he had seen in her eyes not too long ago. To break her or build her up? That was the question. Much of the answer would depend on her, and what mood he was in at the time.


He led her back to the market, Slipping into the cavern and approaching the still sleeping wolf he had left to guard it for the night. The winged wolf's dark form was just another shadow in the darkness, his wings tightly pulled against his side. He gave Wylan a gentle kick in the ribs. Enough to wake up. His voice was less kind when he spoke. “You and I will be talking about this in the morning” he warned his winged heir, and continued on. Leading his new wolf into the Col. His wolf. The Warlord liked possession just a little too much. “Your new home is called the Armada. Your Master” he said the last with amused infliction “is Basilisk. You can address me as Warlord, or Master.” He informed her. The space in the cool was deserted, except for the guards at each end of the Col. The moonlight bathed his territory, and highlighted the old stone that held the pack's rules. “can you read?”

Yara Grey

Yara followed Basilisk through the cavern, her mind racing as she took in her new surroundings. The sleeping wolf, Wylan, stirred slightly when Basilisk kicked him awake, but Yara felt no sympathy for him. His failure to guard the market had contributed to her capture, and she had no patience for incompetence.

“Your new home is called the Armada. Your Master,” her ears twitched at that amused infliction in his voice, “is Basilisk. You can address me as Warlord, or Master.”

Yara's heart sank at the realization of her new reality. The cold stone walls of the Col felt oppressive, a stark contrast to the freedom she had once known. The guards at each end of the Col stood as silent sentinels, their presence a constant reminder of her captivity.

Basilisk's question pulled her from her thoughts. “Can you read?”

Yara hesitated, feeling a flush of embarrassment at her ignorance. She had never been taught to read; it had never been necessary in her previous life. But now, it seemed, it was another way in which she was at a disadvantage.

"No, Warlord," she replied softly while speaking the name that seemed less degrading, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of regret for what she was about to say. "I cannot read." She kept her gaze on him, her mind curious as to what he would think. Perhaps this lack of knowledge could be used to her advantage, a way to appear more submissive and compliant while she bided her time and looked for an opportunity to escape. The thought made her lower her gaze respectfully; every interaction with Basilisk would be a delicate dance of obedience and resilience, and Yara was determined to master it.

CODE BY SIN

He looked at the wolf before him as she admitted to her weakness. It gave him a moment to ponder where she had come from. Who she had been in her life before this. But that history mattered less than she might like. “Very well, you will learn.” He'd offer the role to Ignita first and foremost. What would she think of his newest capture? He brushed the thought aside. She knew what beast she shared her bed with. 


He gave her another sly look. He could almost feel her attempt to find balance in this very new situation she had been thrust into. “I suppose our laws, and what rules should not be broken will be a mystery until then.” A challenge. A reason to learn, and the start down the path to better herself that all Armada slaves must tred. “Come.” He ordered, leading her away from the Obelisk and its mysteries. He led her to the storeroom, which was kept tiny and organised by his soon to be wife. “Down the corridor to the left are hot springs, you may make use of them in your down time.” He told her. Life in the Armada was not without its advantages. She could do well for herself, if she remembered who she served first and foremost. 


He turned to the right, into the store room proper. He moved to the rack of bedding, glancing back for a moment to assess her size before grabbing a tiger coat. He moved to the food section next, keeping a close eye on his wolf and her sticky paws. He threw some dried meat and a canteen into a bag with little explanation, and drew her back out of the storeroom before she could try a repeat of what had brought her here. Once they were out, he thrust the two items at her. “Carry.” He ordered her.

Yara Grey

Yara's mind buzzed with thoughts as she followed Basilisk through the Col. His response to her admission about not being able to read was surprising. She had expected ridicule or disappointment, but his pragmatic acceptance and promise to teach her added a new layer to her understanding of him. She couldn't afford to underestimate him.

The sly look he gave her made her bristle internally, but she kept her expression neutral. The challenge he presented—understanding the laws and rules of the Armada without being able to read—was clear. It was a calculated move to push her towards learning, to integrate her into this new life while dangling the possibility of bettering herself. She nodded silently, acknowledging his command to follow.

As they entered the storeroom, Yara's eyes darted around, taking in the neat rows and organized shelves. She noted the hot springs he mentioned, a small comfort in this stark new reality. The idea of hot springs brought a brief flash of warmth to her otherwise cold thoughts. Life here might have some advantages, but she would have to be cautious and smart about how she navigated it.

When he turned to the right, she followed closely, her eyes watching his every move. As he selected a tiger coat for her bedding, she remained silent, but her thoughts raced. She didn't miss the way he assessed her size with a glance before choosing the coat. His efficiency and control over the situation were clear, and she had to respect that, even if she resented it.

Yara's heart skipped a beat when he moved to the food section, her instincts flaring at the sight of the dried meat. She remembered why she was here, and the urge to take something surged within her. But Basilisk's watchful eyes and the swift movements with which he packed the bag reminded her of her place. She would have to be patient and wait for the right moment to assert her freedom.

As they exited the storeroom, Basilisk thrust the bag of bedding and food at her. “Carry,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. She took the items without hesitation, feeling the weight of her new responsibilities settle onto her shoulders.

“Yes, Warlord,” she responded, her voice steady. She would carry these items, learn the ways of the Armada, and find her place within this new structure. But beneath the surface, her spirit remained unbroken. She would endure and adapt, all the while keeping her ultimate goal in mind: finding Eirik and reclaiming her freedom. For now, she would comply, but the fire within her burned bright, ready for the moment she could rise again.

CODE BY SIN

She was proving to be an obedient little thing. She could do with a little more fire, but his reverse desire to see it would only see her injured, and worse off. So perhaps she was wise to keep it well hidden. He led her back out into the cool night, leading her silently through the Col. He felt no need to converse with her, he knew he would likely learn more than he wished to over time.


He led her to the den that Ignita had claimed and he shared with her. He paused at the door, turned back to his wolf. “Inside this den is a wolf called Ignita. You will obey her commands as if they are my own. Any disrespect, any hurt to her I will deliver to you tenfold.” He was kind enough to warn her. He knocked to announce himself, which he did not usually do and entered. “Ignita, are you awake?”

Yara Grey

Yara followed Basilisk out into the cool night, the weight of the bedding and food bag pressing against her shoulders. The silence between them was heavy, but Yara welcomed it; it gave her time to think and plan. As they walked through the Col, her mind buzzed with thoughts of escape. She mapped out the paths they took, noting landmarks and potential hiding spots. Each step was a rehearsal for the day she would make her break for freedom.

When they approached a den, Basilisk turned to her and spoke. “Inside this den is a wolf called Ignita. You will obey her commands as if they are my own. Any disrespect, any hurt to her I will deliver to you tenfold.” His warning was clear, but Yara's thoughts were elsewhere. She kept her gaze low, but inside, her mind churned with possibilities and contingencies.

As they stood outside the door, waiting for Ignita to respond, Yara couldn't help but let her thoughts drift to Basilisk. The brute was imposing, his dominance clear and unwavering. It was a shame he was taken; she might have used her charm to flirt her way out of this predicament. But with Ignita in the picture, that route was closed off. She would have to rely on her wits and resilience instead.

Her mind wandered back to the idea of escape. She needed to learn the ways of the Armada, understand their routines and weaknesses. The promise of being taught to read could be a double-edged sword, providing her with the means to understand their laws and rules but also binding her closer to this place. She would have to tread carefully, using every opportunity to gather information and bide her time.

CODE BY SIN

Ignita had roused briefly when he left then slipped back into dreams until she heard his familiar knock. She was still easily awoken by the noise, ready to jump to his call, but she blinked and remembered who she was now.
Why was he knocking?
"I am now." She replied, her voice still laden with sleep but carried her typical sunny tone. She sat up from beneath the furs, blinking away the sleep. She saw his titanic silhouette against the door frame, it was still dark outside. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head as he walked in, confused until a stranger followed him.

Ignita's pose and demeanor changed as she caught sight and smell of the stranger. If this were the market, in the daytime, or somewhere outside of the Col she would be friendly and warm. This was not those circumstances. This was the Warlord bringing in a strange tall fae into their den, in the middle of the night.

Was their fight a day ago enough for him to discard her already, in the face of his promises? Her face fell from amorously tired to flat and still-faced, her mind seeking the meditative flow of serenity to calm her nerves. Her golden sunshine eyes met the fae's and quickly shifted to take in the rest of her. She noted how she carried herself like an elegant warrior. A fighter. Ignita was neither elegant nor strong in her own eyes. Her gaze dashed to Basilisk as he neared her, a shimmering question. This observation was all at rapid flash fire speed.

"Hello," She hastily trained her tone to coldly curious as she trained her gaze back from the warlord to the woman, then back again,"Is this... a new songbird, my Love?" She asked carefully. It could be the only reason he was here, but why show her... now in the middle of the night?

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

He entered the den and found his Ignita, tustled furred and blurry eyed as she blinked sleep from them. The furs half fell around her form, giving the impression of waking from a deep sleep. She looked… delicious. He entered the den, leading his new wolf behind him. She still carried her small pack of supplies at his wishes, and he saw the moment Ignitas eyes fell on her. Her expression closed off, and he knew he had caught her by surprise. 


“This little Songbird is called Rabbit.” He informed her, she could claim back her name at a later date. Whatever it was. He had never asked. “I caught her attempting to steal from the closed market. She belongs to me now. To us.” He informed her, the newness of ‘us’ clear in his voice. “She's quick.” He said, eyes amused, before letting warmth infuse them again. “Hmm… a wedding gift for you, my Love.” He hadn't intended that when he had walked in the den, but something about her closed off expression made him wish to chase the look away.

Yara Grey

Yara's ears twitched as she took in the interaction between Basilisk and Ignita. The small girl, with her tousled fur and sleepy eyes, seemed a far cry from the imposing figure of Basilisk. Yara's heart sank further at the name he bestowed upon her—Rabbit. It was a degrading reminder of her perceived place in this new world, a stark contrast to the pride she had once held in her own name.

Her gaze flickered over Ignita, taking in her slight frame and soft demeanor. The idea that this girl could keep her against her will was almost laughable. Yara's mind raced with possibilities. If Ignita was as gentle as she appeared, perhaps there would be opportunities to exploit, moments of weakness that Yara could use to her advantage.

The words "wedding gift" echoed in her mind, a bitter reminder of her new status. She remained silent, her eyes lowered in a show of submission, but inside, her thoughts were anything but compliant. How long would it take to learn the routines of this place, to find the gaps in their vigilance? The challenge was laid out before her, and she felt a strange, defiant thrill at the thought of escaping under their noses.

She shifted the weight of the bag on her shoulders, feeling the burden of her new responsibilities. The idea of being called Rabbit was a constant irritation, a symbol of her captivity. She had to endure it for now, but her spirit remained unbroken. She would find a way out, and when she did, she would reclaim her name and her freedom.

For now, she had to play her part. "Yes, Warlord," she murmured, keeping her voice steady. She glanced at Ignita, her expression carefully neutral, but inside, she was already planning her next move. This place was new and unfamiliar, but she would learn its secrets. She would bide her time and wait for the right moment to escape.

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and strategies as she stood there, the fire within her burning brighter than ever. She would not be a Rabbit forever. She would find her way back to being Yara, and nothing would stand in her way.

CODE BY SIN

Ignita's waking brain shook off the sleep rather quickly as she observed the reactions between each wolf. Ignita caught the subtle flicker of discomfort from the moonlit and smoke femme as Bas introduced her as Rabbit. The corner of her own lip twitched, he had called her, and even still does, Little Bird.

"Oh? A thief? To us?" She asked of him askance, his own story or the truth? With how he captured Ignita at first he had claimed she was a thief when she was naive and didn't know any better. Was this the same situation?

She hadn't realized that her new status would place her here. She had never thought she would even get to a moment like this. Being presented a slave as a gift, for her to command and lord over. As he mentioned that she was quick Ignita felt a strange dichotomy of looking at "Rabbit" standing before her and knowing just how it felt to be looked over like this in such a way.

She was silent but shifted her gaze back to Basilisk in a subtle narrowing of the eyes as he decided on the spot to present "Rabbit" as a wedding gift.

"You... Hm" She started at Basilisk at first but then changed her mind midway and turned back to the new songbird of Armada, "We'll have much to discuss in the morning then. We don't suffer thieves here." She said coolly, hopefully, she had embodied a more confident air than she felt, Ignita was the Steward of the pack.

She turned to her lover and previous master, softening her gaze on him in just such a way as to suggest promises soon, "Darling, the old painting den was cleared while you were away. I believe that'll be suitable for her until we find her a better abode." She suggested, playing with her words in such a way as he had used on her before. She relaxed onto her elbows, waiting for him to take the girl to the den she indicated.

"Ignita"

Despite being thrown off her stride, Ignita was quick to recover. Her firm suggestion did not go over his head. His eyes sparked at her. Amused by her, as a wolf could be with the ones they loved. “Your wish is my command.” The imposing Warlord said. He did not show weakness easily, and differing to her before the slave was a subtle gift. Something that suggested Ignita’s power mattered here.


“Come, Rabbit.” He ordered. His voice, which has softened for his Mate sharpened again as he spoke to the newest slave. 


He led her to a den a short trott across the Col, and clearly visible from the den he shared with Ignita. He stepped through the door and looked at the space. “Eat. Sleep. Tend to your Mistress in the morning. Any questions?” He allowed this one small grace to the new slave.