I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E

Basilisk was exploring the plains. He had moved around the communal setting, stuck his nose in a few empty dens, and toasted his toes by the ever-lit fire pit. But really, what the young wolf wanted most was to explore and learn and show off. What young man didn’t?

He moved away from the obelisk and further towards the edge of the pack. Where the stream touched the outskirts of pack lands. He fell into a light trott, enjoying the wind in his coat, and occasionally glancing suspiciously up at the sun. For the majority of its life, it had not risen - and then suddenly it had appeared. Bright and round and imposing.

Bringing his attention back to what was in front of him, he realised that he was nearing the border now. He paused, hearing the burbling of the stream, and glanced curiously over at it. His eyes fell not upon the stream, but the golden and giant form of a predator. He gulped, and dug his claws into the earth. He was big compared to his siblings, but he was still very small compared to that. Foolish and youthful, he dug his claws in tighter, and growled at the lion, whos attention was already on the pup. It stepped its paws into the shallow end of the stream, and began to cross towards the Armada - and the pup.

"Speech"