I Can't Takin Anymore!

Basilisk gave her a small grin, finding her a warmer teacher then most. When she asked him a question, he knew it for what it was. He’d done enough lessons to recognise a strategy question. He took on a slightly rigid stance, and looked out across their playing field. The takin looked far sturdier than deer. He would need a bit of force to break the skin, but he could manage that.

The place Fern had taken them too was overgrown. Bushes and long grass, a smattering of trees all offered places to take cover. After a moment, he pointed his nose to a littering of large rocks to the right of the herd. “I could make my way there through the underbrush. Then, when they run, it would create a path for them to escape between. Giving me a chance to take one down.” He explained. Glancing up at her, hiding his inner need for approval.

Things moved pretty quickly after that, as Fern moved into position, and Basilisk slunk over to his chosen spot. He waited behind the rock, and watched as Fern began the hunt. Picking off her chosen prey. As he watched, the smaller takin was herded towards him, and crouched, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

"Speech"