The samples were delivered to Ollie, the wolves had been assembled and informed. The evening had ended with Ignita delivering some supplies to the border. He found one of their shared coats, a gift to him. He breathed in the scent of her before tossing it over his shoulders.

Grabbing another coat for Yara and some food for their dinner. He made their way to the out of the way little cave they had taken over. Keeping away from the other wolves left their options limited.

There wasn't a whole lot of room once you added a wolf of Bas’ size. But they made do. He tossed the spare coat to her and put his own on the ground. He collapsed into it, exhausted from the day. He handed out some food to her. “Who did Oleander send?” He asked  mostly to fill conversation

Yara Grey

Yara carefully made her way to the cramped cave, the shadows of the night casting an eerie glow on the landscape. The day had been long and exhausting, and she felt a mix of relief and anxiety as she approached their shelter. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Basilisk, the imposing figure already settled inside, making the small space seem even smaller.

As she entered, he tossed her a spare coat. She caught it, the warmth and scent of the fabric bringing a slight blush to her cheeks. She had developed a small crush on Basilisk, and the proximity in such a confined space made her feel even more awkward. She spread the coat on the ground, trying to create as much distance as possible in the limited area.

"Thank you, Warlord," she said, her voice softer than usual. She accepted the food he offered, her fingers brushing against his paw for a brief moment, sending a shiver down her spine. She quickly looked away, focusing on the meal in front of her.

"It was Vesper," she replied, glancing up at him briefly before lowering her gaze again. "Oleander sent Vesper to collect the samples. I made sure to handle everything carefully to avoid any contamination."

She tried to focus on the conversation, but the awareness of their closeness was hard to ignore. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. "How are you holding up, Warlord? It's been a long day," she asked, trying to keep the conversation going and distract herself from her nervousness.

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There was an odd nervousness to Yara when he looked across at her. But perhaps that shouldn't surprise him. The fear of the blight hung over all of them now, and here she was forced into cramp quarters with the wolf that had taken her freedom. They lived in strange times indeed.


“You have nothing to fear from me tonight.” He told her, attempting to soothe some of her feathers with his words. He couldn't always guarantee her safety, he would discipline where necessary, but she could rely on that much at least.


Vesper. That didn't surprise him, she was his assistant slave. Bas was just glad the healer had the samples now. He glanced at her at her words, looking for hidden meaning. Trust didn't come easily to the Warlord, and interest in his own life sent up an odd little warning in his chest. Over-reactive possessive beast of a Warlord that he was. “My wolves are in danger, My fiance is on the other side of a wall of my own making.” Yeah, his voice was a little grumpy. “As well as can be expected. You?”

Yara Grey

Yara took a deep breath, reminding herself to keep her feelings hidden. It was hard, especially with Basilisk's imposing presence so close. The mention of his fiancée brought a pang to her heart, but she quickly pushed it aside. She had to stay focused and professional.

She focused on her food, taking a small bite to steady herself. "I'm doing alright, considering the circumstances. I hope my brother is far away from here," she replied, her voice steady but softer than usual. "It's been a long day, but I'm glad we managed to get the samples delivered safely. Hopefully, the healers can make some progress with them."

She kept her gaze on her food, not trusting herself to look directly at him for too long. "I'm sure it's difficult being away from Ignita," she added, trying to show empathy despite the flutter in her chest. "But we're all grateful for the steps you're taking to protect us. It can't be easy."

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't completely hide the softness in her eyes when she glanced at him. She quickly looked away again, focusing on her meal and savoring the taste as a distraction. The cramped quarters made it impossible to ignore the closeness, and she hoped he wouldn't notice her internal struggle.

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He leaned down, resting his head on the coat Ignita had brought from their den. Breathing in the scent of her and reminding himself not to be too harsh with the wolf who shared his space. None of this situation was her fault, and she had done her best to better it.

He took a bite of his own dinner, and listened to Yara. Her voice wasn't as familiar as some, but it was oddly grounding. Concentrating on her words helped to chase away some of his worry for Ignita. 

He understood her desire to have her family far from here. He wished he could do the same, but the Armada was his family. They were all of them in the thick of it. “Give me a threat I can sink me teeth into over this anyway.” He growled, finishing his meal.

“Sleep, Yara, I fear our days will only get longer.” He said, closing his own eyes in an attempt to follow his own advice.

-time skip-

He awoke some time in the night, darkness and Ignitas scent around him. he remembered the taste of the strangest dream, of blights and distance between them. He pulled Ignitas little form closer to him, wapping his paws around her. His body awakening at the scent of her, at her warmth. His arousal Pushed him to nuzzle his head into her neck, to open his maw and bite-- but the scent was wrong. Now that he was away from the cloak, it wasn't Ignitas scent in his nose. He awoke more fully with a confused snarl. “Who…?” No, that dream couldn't be reality.

Yara Grey

Yara drifted into a fitful sleep, her mind replaying the day's events over and over. In her dreams, the blight receded, replaced by a comforting warmth. She found herself nestled close to Basilisk, his strong presence enveloping her. She could smell his familiar scent, a mix of earth and strength, and it brought an inexplicable sense of safety.

In the dream, she felt his warmth against her, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She nuzzled closer, her heart swelling with emotions she tried so hard to suppress. It felt so real, so tender, and for a moment, she allowed herself to revel in the feeling.

But then, slowly, the dream began to blur into reality. Yara's eyes fluttered open, and she realized with a start that the warmth she felt was not a dream. Basilisk's powerful form was pressed against her, his paws wrapped around her in a protective embrace. She could feel his breath against her neck, his scent intoxicatingly close.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of panic and longing. She froze, unsure of what to do. Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. How had this happened? Did he think she was Ignita in his sleep? She didn't want to move and wake him, but the intensity of the situation was almost too much to bear.

'What do I do? What if he wakes up? How can I explain this?' Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She wanted to savor the closeness, to stay wrapped in his warmth, but she knew it wasn't right. He was engaged, and this was a mistake, even if it was an innocent one.

Yara closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. She could feel the steady thump of Basilisk's heartbeat against her back, a reminder of the reality of their situation. She took slow, measured breaths, hoping he wouldn't wake up and realize what was happening.

Please don't wake up, she pleaded silently, feeling the turmoil of her emotions pressing down on her. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, knowing this moment, however accidental, was fleeting.

In the darkness, she remained still, trying to sort through her feelings and the reality of their predicament. Her mind battled with the desire to stay close and the need to respect his boundaries. The internal conflict left her feeling more awake and alert than she had been all day.

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He growled his question into the darkness, and only silence greeted him. He could feel his anger rising. His Ignita, ripped from his arms from dream to reality. He could feel his need and desire, and the fading scent of her as if she was vanishing before his eyes. Why had silence greeted him?

But he knew why. He was the Warlord, and the wolf he snarled at was Yara, his slave. She likely didn’t answer because she was afraid. He had almost forced himself on her in his confusion, and now he was snarling into the dark. He forced himself to pull back slowly, breathing quick and ragged. “A dream… It was a dream..” He said, an explanation, and a lacklustre apology.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara's heart pounded in her chest as Basilisk's growl echoed in the cramped cave. She could feel his anger, his confusion, and the intensity of his emotions. She remained still, barely daring to breathe as he slowly pulled back. His words, a mix of explanation and apology, hung in the air between them.

"A dream… It was a dream…" he said, his voice still tinged with the remnants of sleep and frustration.

Yara swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and the lingering warmth of their unexpected closeness. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She needed to do something, to break the tension and give them both a chance to regain their composure.

"Warlord, may I… may I go get us some breakfast?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. She kept her gaze lowered, not daring to meet his eyes. The blush on her cheeks deepened as she felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

She waited for his response, hoping that stepping outside would give them both a chance to breathe and clear their minds. The awkwardness of the moment was almost suffocating, and she needed a way to escape it, if only for a little while.

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It was still some time in the night. He wasn’t sure how long the night had left, but he suspected a while. But he understood the motivation behind her words, the need to escape. He hesitated, the commendearing part of his soul reared up. Still muggy and groggy from sleep, frustrated and annoyed he felt the desire to force her to stay. To take control of the situation however he pleased.

He forced himself to let out a slow breath, to drag himself back in. He had to let her go, if he forced her to stay, they would likely both regret the results. “Go.” He commanded, and waited until she had fled the den. He settled back on the floor, picking up his bedding and holding it up to his muzzle. Breathing in the scent of the coat. Ignita.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara felt a rush of relief when Basilisk finally spoke. His command to go was all she needed to escape the suffocating tension. "Thank you, Warlord," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She quickly slipped out of the cramped cave, the cool night air hitting her face like a refreshing wave.

Once outside, she took a moment to catch her breath. The forest was dark and silent, a stark contrast to the turmoil she felt inside. She leaned against a tree, closing her eyes and taking deep, steadying breaths. 'Get a grip, Yara. You need to focus.' She chided herself silently, trying to push away the lingering embarrassment and confusion.

After a few moments, she felt her resolve returning. She couldn't let this incident distract her from her duties. She needed to do something productive, something to clear her mind and regain her composure. A small hunt would be perfect.

Moving quietly through the forest, Yara let her senses guide her. The night was alive with subtle sounds - the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl, and the soft padding of her own paws on the forest floor. She focused on the task at hand, her eyes scanning the underbrush for any signs of movement.

After a while, she caught sight of a rabbit, its ears twitching as it nibbled on some grass. Yara crouched low, her muscles coiling as she prepared to spring. She moved with practiced stealth, inching closer until she was within striking distance. With a swift, silent leap, she pounced, her jaws closing around the rabbit's neck.

The hunt had been successful, and the brief burst of action had helped clear her mind. She took a moment to offer a silent thanks to the rabbit for its sacrifice, then began to make her way back to the cave. The night air felt less oppressive now, and she felt more in control, ready to face the Warlord with the right resolve once again.

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The scent of fresh blood was unexpected, and when Yara returned, it was with what he could only assume was a freshly killed rabbit in her maw. He had excited the cave, grabbing some fresh air himself, and it was here that she found him. He looked at the rabbit in her paws, and growled at her. Foolish Songbird.

“My Lead Healer declared the woods unsafe for hunting, it's for this reason that we are getting supplies from the Col.” He growled, stalking forward and smacking the rabbit from her maw. Perhaps he could have been gentler about it, but the Warlord was working with a lot of pent up aggression. Dealing with a threat he couldn’t face, distance from his beloved. “Use your head, Yara!” He snarled at her.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara's heart sank as Basilisk growled at her, his words hitting her like a physical blow. She hadn't thought about the danger in her rush to escape the cave and clear her mind. The reminder of the woods being unsafe stung, making her feel foolish and reckless. The rabbit, her small victory, was knocked from her maw, and she winced at his roughness.

"I'm sorry, Warlord," she stammered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and embarrassment. She took a step back, her body tense. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I just... needed to do something."

Her gaze darted around, looking for an escape. The weight of her mistake and the intensity of Basilisk's anger made her want to flee. She took a few quick steps backward, then turned and bolted into the night, her paws pounding against the forest floor. Her mind raced, berating herself for her carelessness and the mess she had made of the situation.

As she ran, she tried to steady her breathing, her thoughts a whirlwind of regret and self-reproach. 'How could I be so stupid? I should have known better. I have to get a grip.' She kept running, needing the distance to gather her thoughts and calm her racing heart.

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Running was the worst thing she could do in that moment. Running marked her as prey. He felt the instinct rear its head as the midnight wolf took off. She was fast, he knew that already. But it didn’t matter. He tore after her, heading through the woods he knew so well as he sought to bring back what belonged to him.

The night was dark, with barely a hint of the moon or stars through clouds that gathered in the sky above them. The woods was a gloomy place these days, and it was like the world itself sought to stand that point out. He didn’t know if Yara intended to escape, or if she was going to stomp through the blighted woods until trouble fell on her head.
Regardless, he would catch her.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara's paws pounded against the forest floor as she sprinted through the dark woods, her breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The night was quiet, the darkness pressing in on all sides, and she could barely make out the shapes of the trees as she wove between them. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her veins, but she knew she couldn't keep running forever.

As she ran, thoughts raced through her mind. Should she keep fleeing, hoping to find some sanctuary or escape in the vast, blighted woods? Or should she stop and face the inevitable, confront the danger head-on? She weighed her options, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her.

She slowed to a halt, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She turned around, her golden eyes blazing with determination. The large wolf was gaining on her, his dark silhouette growing clearer as he approached.

Yara set her defenses, muscles tensed and ready just like she had displayed for him before during their lesson. She planted her paws firmly on the ground, lifting her head high, her gaze unwavering. Her heart pounded, but it wasn't just fear that fueled her now - it was a fierce resolve. She would face him, whatever the outcome.

As the dark wolf closed the distance, Yara met his eyes with a fire in her own. She was ready for the worst, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. This was her stand, and she would hold her ground..

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The Warlord’s blood was high from the chase. A vent for his frustration in the form of a nimble, silver wolf that tore through his damaged home. He could scent wrongness in the woods around them, which only added to the fuel of his frustration. His paws tore across the earth, surprisingly silent for the fur beneath his pads and the sheathed cat-like claws that formed his paws.

He caught up to her when she set herself, clearly prepared to take him on. He could live with that. He launched himself at her, aiming to smash his larger shoulder into her chest. In the same instance, his teeth went for her throat. Aiming to clamp down and narrow her airways as well as subdue and control her. It was all about control, in the end…

"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara braced herself as Bas charged, his powerful form a blur in the dim light. She knew she had to think quickly, to use her agility and speed to her advantage. As he lunged, aiming to slam his shoulder into her chest, she twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the full force of his impact.

His teeth snapped towards her throat, and she jerked her head back, feeling the sharp graze of his fangs against her fur. She let out a growl, low and fierce, her eyes still blazing with the same determination. She did not want him to overpower her so easily.

Using her smaller size to her advantage, she ducked under his bulk, aiming to land a quick, sharp bite to his exposed flank. Her heart pounded with adrenaline and resolve, every instinct focused on evading his control while trying to find an opening to strike back and take the titan down. She knew she wasn't getting out of this fight, but she wanted to prove her strength and honor her pride by truly fighting for it.

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Basilisk found himself grinning, enjoying the thrill of the fight. His paws moved as fluid as water on the dark, damp forest floor. He didn’t need much light to work with, his eyes were like a dragons, and he could see unnaturally well in the dark. He watched her move, and saw the bunching of her haunches.

When she dove under him to aim for his flank, he gave up his balance. Collapsing to grab her in a bear hug and wrap his paws around her. He clenched his body tightly around her, so the smaller and more fragile wolf had no hope to escape. He gave a deep, husky laugh. He was clearly enjoying himself. He gripped her neck lightly in his jaws. “Mine, my wolf.” he growled at her.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

The tall fae didn't seem so tall next to him, struggling fiercely as Basilisk's powerful form enveloped her, his bear hug immobilizing her completely. She thrashed and squirmed, her muscles straining against his iron grip. Her breath came in sharp grasps as she felt his paws wrap tightly around her, his body heat seeping into her own.

Her initial panic slowly ebbed as she realized he wasn't trying to hurt her, despite the echo of pain she could still feel on her throat from his fangs. He was trying to restrain her, not bite? The confusion in her mind intensified, an intense mix of fear, frustration and undeniable attraction stirring between her thighs. His deep, husky laugh sent a shiver down her spine and caused her sun-yellow eyes to flutter closed, the light pressure of his teeth on her neck making her heart race even faster.

"Mine, my wolf," he growled, and the possessiveness in his voice made her both angry and flustered. She was his, more than he knew.

Yara forced herself to stop struggling, her body going still beneath his. She did not want to be seen as weak, but she also could not deny the strange sense of security she felt in his hold. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. She had wanted to prove her strength to him - to fight for her pride, but now, trapped and unable to fight, she felt a vulnerability she had never anticipated in her life.

As the seconds stretched on, she felt herself beginning to melt into his arms, her body relaxing as she went through her inner turmoil. The fight had drained her, and now, all she could do was surrender. Her breathing slowed, she kept her eyes closed, and tried to calm the storm of emotions within her before he caught on to what was going on with her.

Their closeness was overwhelming, and she couldn't help but feel a flicker of something deeper, something she couldn't quite understand. For now, she would simply let herself be held by her Warlord, trying to find some semblance of peace in the chaos of her thoughts.

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He felt the moment she stopped struggling and thrashing against him. That was a good thing, especially considering the way he had woken up not that long ago. He gently lowered them both to the ground until he was in a sitting position, her still locked in his arms. This wolf clearly had a habit of running.

He grinned her throat in his fangs another few moments before he released his jaws. His arms were still wrapped around her. “You're a runner, little rabbit” he said softly. He had clearly named her well. “Promise to be a good girl if I let you go?” He could claim that his intentions had been to stop her spreading the blight outside of the Armada, or risking her own infection. But the truth was, he had simply enjoyed the chase.


"Basilisk"

Yara Grey

Yara's heart pounded as Basilisk gently lowered them to the ground, still holding her securely. His fangs grazed her throat once more before he released his jaws, but his arms remained around her, a reminder of his control. The sensation sent another shiver through her, mixing fear and something she didn't want to acknowledge.

His words, calling her a runner, struck a chord. She had never run, always fought to prove herself. But now, caught in his embrace, she felt exposed and vulnerable. The nickname "little rabbit" stung, yet it also felt strangely fitting.

"I promise," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The mix of emotions swirling within her was overwhelming, but she knew she had to comply. She couldn't fight him, not now. She needed to understand her own feelings, to navigate the confusing blend of attraction and fear. For now, she would be the good girl he asked for, even as she struggled to make sense of her own heart.

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