the difference between real purpose & urgent adolescence

Basilisk was fidgety and impatient and annoying all through dinner, until his father finally sent him off with a flick. Telling him to spend some of his energy patrolling or hunting before he came to bed. A rather convenient excuse that fell tidily into Bas’s plans “After dinner, our treehouse, don't tell anyone.” Her words still rang in his head, and he was excited to finally be released.

Basilisk trotted out past the patrols between the Col and the woods. Looking as if he was going somewhere he was supposed to. Like going to see Mort, or something. Maybe he could see Mort after hearing whatever Hazel wanted to tell him. To give him a cover story later. Maybe he didn’t need to be as careful as he was, but it was part of the fun. A bit of rebellion and trouble to get his heart pounding.

He found the treehouse easily enough. The pair had been working at it - but there were a couple new additions too. Some extra supports under the flooring, and did that smell like Mortis? He frowned, and shrugged it off. Hopping up into the tree house and finding his best friend there. The red and pale toned wolf with green eyes, who was his favourite person in the world. “Pssst.” he whispered. “Fish soap….” he grimaced as he said it, and then pushed his way fully onto the platform. He found the bedding - and the snacks, which earned her a grin - and collapsed on his back on one of the pelts. The tree house shook a little, and maybe it was a good thing Mort had added some supports. He looked up at what he could see of the stars through the treetops. He grabbed a snack with a single claw and dragged it towards him. "What's the occasion?" He asked, voice still a whisper. Not that he needed an occasion to sneak out with his best friend.

"Speech"