get good, kid

Basilisk grinned, having been caught. He slunk out of the shadows. The little trot-trot of his tiny reindeer clomping behind him as he came fully into view. He had ventured out a little further then the main Armada hunting grounds to see what else he could catch the scent of. He hadn’t expected that of a familiar face, but he wasn’t going to complain, either. “You're only a stone's throw from Armada here” he explained as he came to a stop a comfortable distance from her.

“What brings you by this time?” he asked, remembering the last time they had met. He sniffed the air cautiously, just to check he wasn’t tripping over another of her hunts.


"Speech"