So, gather up your jackets, move it to the exits

The Warlord was pulling Basilisk out of the water by his scruff when the howl came from the border. He flicked an ear at the noise, and grunted, yanking the oversized pup fully ontop shore. His grandkid was panting and shook out his coat, wobbly on his feet. “Basilisk.” he said, voice stern. “If you're going to get your paw stuck in a coral reef, you can’t swim unattended anymore. See me here tomorrow morning for a lesson about ocean hazards. Understood?”’ He waited until the boy gave him a sheepish nod and voiced his agreement.

He eyed the boy for another few moments as he got to his feet, asked to be excused, and took off running through the tall grasses. He didn’t look any worse for after his near drowning. Perhaps he ought to get Halo to give him a once over anyway…

Speaking of the healer, he glanced back towards the border, and took off at a trott from where she had called. It was unusual for her to summon him to the border, hopefully nothing was wrong. Thanks to Basilisk, his answer was a little tardy. Shaking salt water from his coat he arrived and looked from Halo, to a boy who smelled faintly of Abaven, and herbs. “Halo, would you introduce me to your friend?’ he asked, assuming she would also full him in on what this was about.


"Sirius Fatalis"