101 in feasting

Basilisk nodded sagely, knowing what it was like to be pressed into work by older wolves. He opened the cellar door and had a nosey inside while Hazel spoke. “Yeah, I bet we can find something near the smokehouse on the beach” he said as he rummaged through the shelves. He was sure he had seen… there. “There's these spare flax ropes, maybe we could tie them together?” He suggested, dragging a bunch down and tossing it over his shoulder. He had another look at the stores. The scent of the dried meat making his mouth water. Mmm…

Determined not to get distracted, he backed out of the stores and dropped some of the rope over Hazel’s shoulders. “Last one to the beach is a rotten egg!” he yelled, and took off sprinting across the grass and towards the beach. Knowing they would need to take a detour to the smokehouse, he angled his steps accordingly.

"Speech"