Basilisk left Yara and Ignita to work things out between them and made his way through his morning rounds the day after Yara's capture. He made time to find Wylan and give the bit a very stern talking to. When the winged wolf's ears were thoroughly red he moved on. 

By the time he was done and could pull himself free of his alpha duties, it was early afternoon. He made his way down to the Armada beach, feeling the black sand between his toes as he trotted to the training rings. The pegged areas rested where the tide could wash them clean once a day. It was here he stood, and raised his head to howl for his Little Rabbit.

Yara Grey

Yara had spent the morning with Ignita, cautiously navigating their interactions. She had kept her words respectful and her actions compliant, all the while observing and learning. Ignita seemed kind, but Yara couldn't let herself trust too easily. Every moment was an opportunity to gather information and understand the dynamics of the Armada.

When Basilisk's howl echoed across the territory, summoning her to the beach, Yara felt a mix of anxiety and determination. This was the beginning of her training, a chance to prove her worth and learn the skills she needed. She made her way down to the Armada beach, the black sand warm beneath her paws. The sight of the training rings, washed clean by the tide, filled her with a sense of purpose.

As she approached Basilisk, she kept her head low in a show of respect, but her eyes were sharp and attentive. "Warlord," she greeted him, her voice steady. She stood ready, the fire within her burning bright. This was the first step towards regaining her freedom, and she intended to make the most of it.

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It wasn’t long before the starlit wolf appeared along the beach. She stood out on the black sand much as the moon itself would. She trotted forward, and greeted him when she was near enough. He inclined his head to her. “Little Rabbit” he said in greeting. She hadn’t earned back her name yet. “I made a promise to you.” he raised a paw, and spread it out to the side, indicating the training rings.

“Navigation isn’t on the table just yet, but the Armada is a pack well known for its fighting abilities. To start with, how proficient are you in your defences?” He asked her, moving to step into one of the rings, and becoming the smaller girl to follow.

"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara's ears perked up at the mention of training. Though she was disappointed that navigation wasn't on the table yet, she understood the importance of becoming proficient in combat. It was a critical skill, not just for her survival here, but for her eventual escape and journey to find Eirik.

She followed Basilisk into the training ring, the black sand shifting beneath her paws. She kept her gaze focused, her mind already shifting into a strategic mode. "I have some experience in defending myself," she replied, her voice steady. "I've had to fight off threats in the past, but I know there's much I still need to learn."

The fire within her burned brighter as she took her place in the ring. This was her opportunity to prove herself, to become stronger and more capable. She met Basilisk's gaze, determination shining in her eyes. "I'm ready to learn, Warlord," she said, her tone resolute.

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Her answer wasn’t really an answer, and he studied her critically for a moment. Was she pretending not to understand, or had she not had any official training before now? He stood across from her in the training ring. The black sand had almost the same tone as his forepaws as he stood there, stance relaxed and easy, eyes watchful and studying.

“Very well then” He said, nodding his head towards the silver-grey wolf before him. “Assume a defensive position, show me the stances” he ordered, that would determine if she knew them, and how comfortable she was in them. He couldn’t move on to fighting techniques until a wolf understood the basics.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara felt a twinge of embarrassment as Basilisk studied her critically. She realized she hadn't fully grasped his initial request; she wasn't used to being expected to show rather than tell. Silently, she noted to herself to keep her mouth shut; she did not need to tell him who she was or explain herself, she needed to show him first.

Taking a deep breath, she focused on the task at hand. She squared her stance, planting all four limbs firmly into the black sand. She bent her knees, feeling the tension and readiness in her muscles. Lowering her head to align with her spine, she tucked her chin in a protective gesture, her eyes staying locked on Basilisk and then narrowed. Finally, she tucked her tail, minimizing any potential vulnerabilities. Instincts were telling her to snarl, to make the meat of her face as thick as possible but her Warlord's presence prevented her from doing so. Instead, she simply flattened her ears to both protect them and show her submission.

[1/3 Received a fighting lesson (not including a spar) from another character ]

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He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, so he was pleasantly surprised when she adopted a fighting stance and held it with the ease of one who had done this before. “Very good.” He complimented her, walking a small circle around the smaller wolf. He gently pushed against her side to test her balance, and found her form to be reliably steady.

“So you’ve had some training.” He wouldn’t be starting from scratch here. That was good. He concluded his talk and returned to her front. He stared her down for a moment, and then took a step back. “Attack me, I want to see how your defences transform and return in battle.” He commanded her, giving her permission to unleash an attack on him.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara felt a mix of relief and satisfaction at Basilisk's compliment. The tension in her muscles eased slightly, but she remained focused and alert as he circled her, testing her balance. His approval meant she wasn't completely out of her depth, and it fueled her determination to show him what she could do.

When he returned to her front and commanded her to attack, she felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins. This was her chance to demonstrate her skills, to prove she could be an asset, and get out of the rank of Songbird. Taking a deep breath, she recalled the techniques she had learned in the past when training with her brothers, ready to apply them in this new setting.

Without hesitation, Yara sprang into action. She pushed off with her hind legs, her muscles coiling and releasing like springs as she lunged towards Basilisk with controlled aggression, her paws barely touching the sand as she made her way to him. Her target was his right shoulder, aiming for the mid-section where she could disrupt his balance and test his defenses.

Her mouth opened wide, teeth bared and aimed to sink into his flesh with enough force to establish her presence without causing real harm. Her eyes remained locked on her target although narrowed, her ears flattened to her head in a show of focus and determination. The meat of her face bundled up atop her snout to protect it as she neared Basilisk, her front paws extended forward, ready to make contact and push off for a swift retreat if needed.

Her body moved with precision, each muscle working in harmony to deliver a powerful yet controlled strike. She aimed to use her momentum to her advantage, planning to hit hard and fast before swiftly retreating to reassess and adapt to his reactions. Her hind legs remained tense, ready to push off and retreat as soon as she felt her teeth make contact with his skin.

Every movement was calculated, designed to showcase her ability to transition from defense to offense seamlessly. The fire within her burned brightly, driving her forward with a fierce resolve to prove herself. She was determined to show Basilisk that she could be a formidable warrior and an asset to the Armada. She stood from him a couple feet away and reset her defenses, the thick fur of her chest rising and falling with her breath as she gauged his reaction to her striking him. He was so much larger than her, and that scar on Ignita's muzzle didn't make itself.. Yara was cautious of her actions in this moment.

[2/3 Received a fighting lesson (not including a spar) from another character ]

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Yara leaped forward, aiming a strike at his shoulder. Bringing her into the circle of his reach. She was a smaller wolf, and clearly aiming towards agility. But there would always be a danger in striking at large wolves in a frontal attack. Shifting her momentum to push off him again gave him the opportunity in the moment it took to change direction. He let her have the hit, knowing that short victory gave him his opening. He snapped his own teeth towards the scruff of her neck.

Her shorter height put it at a good range for him to grab. At the same instance, he shifted his weight and lifted one front foreleg. He moved to catch it behind her own slimmer limb. If his hits landed, he would only hold for one short moment and release. Just a reminder of the explosive speed of a larger wolf when given the opportunity.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara felt the satisfying contact of her teeth against Basilisk's shoulder, a brief moment of victory before she prepared to retreat. But her success was short-lived. In the split second it took to push off and change direction, Basilisk's teeth found her scruff. The sudden grip was firm but not painful, a stark reminder of his superior strength and speed.

As he lifted his foreleg to catch her behind her own, Yara instinctively twisted her body. She managed to pull free from his grasp, her hind legs pushing off the sand to propel her sideways. She halted her movement, choosing to stop and reassess rather than counter with an immediate attack.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she took a deep breath, resetting her defenses. She squared her stance again, lowering her head and tucking her tail, but her mind was racing. What had she done wrong? She realized her mistake was in the execution of her retreat. The moment of shifting her momentum had left her vulnerable, allowing Basilisk to exploit her opening.

Meeting Basilisk's gaze, she nodded slightly, acknowledging his superiority and her own need to improve. The fire within her burned brighter with determination. She was learning, adapting, and she would continue to refine her techniques to ensure she wouldn't make the same mistake again.

[3/3 Received a fighting lesson (not including a spar) from another character ]

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He let her steady herself and reset her defences before he relaxed his own position. “The groundwork is already there.” He told her thoughtfully, thinking over the style of her attack. “You want to rely on speed, and that’s good. That’s a strength of yours, but you need to be careful about a frontal attack. My power lies mostly in the front half of my body. My arms, my teeth. Entering that circle will always hold risk. All it takes is for me to get a good grip on you, and you’ve lost all advantage.” He continued, his critique spoken without judgement.

“Practise your offensive, and consider how you can attack without entering or remaining in the circle of my reach.” He advised her.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara listened intently to Basilisk's critique, absorbing every word. His assessment was fair, and she appreciated his straightforward approach. He was right; her strength lay in her speed and agility, and she needed to use that to her advantage without falling into his reach.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Understood, Warlord." She said. She mentally prepared herself to follow his instructions. Focusing on her strategy, Yara visualized her next move. She would need to be swift and precise, striking from angles that minimized the risk of getting caught in his powerful front half. She shifted her weight, preparing for another attack, this time with a more refined approach.

Pushing off with her hind legs, she darted to the side, aiming to circle around Basilisk. She kept her movements fluid and unpredictable, her eyes locked on his form. Her goal was to find an opening to attack his flank without entering his immediate reach. As she closed the distance, she aimed a swift nip at his left hind leg, careful to stay out of range of his teeth and forelegs. Her heart pounded as she executed the maneuver, ready to retreat quickly if necessary.

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