Losing, or losing you

The sun blazes over head as Fern practices out in the training area, her sword clutched firmly in her mouth. It has been a week since the wedding and the tournament fights and her mind turns to young Basilisk once more. Her sword thwacks onto the armored dummy as she remembers the anger and disappointment in the boy’s eyes when he tried to shame her for winning against him. The sadness that she felt around the whole situation has faded along with any anger she might have been harboring toward the tall Fatalis. She lunges toward the dummy, threading her sword through the small opening in the chest and striking into the straw underneath.

A howl reaches her dark tipped ears and Fern pauses at the summoning call directed at her. Basilisk has come to see her? Swiftly she moves to gather her scabbard that she had set aside, buckling it across her back before sliding the sword home. Puff bounces up to her and Fern helps her stoat friend to climb onto her back before the pair take off to the plains. She doesn’t stall, instead moving quickly to where Bas is waiting. When his tall form comes into view, the gray girl slows until she comes to a stop a few steps away from him. She hesitates, uncertain if she wants to rush forward and hug him or give him a stern lecture.

Fern settles on greeting the boy who has traveled such a far way to see her and says, “Hello Basilisk. You have traveled a long way, why not come rest your paws in the castle?” She offers him a guarded smile before tilting her head back to howl and let Artorias and Briar know that Basilisk is here to visit. Once down she lowers her head and motions for Basilisk to follow her. Leading the way to the castle, Fern says, “I worried I wouldn’t see again, Bas. You were pretty mad at me that day.” Puff, the little female stoat, looks at the huge wolf with awe as they walk and says, “You’re so tall!” which has the gray girl trying to stifle a laughter.


"Fern Lark" | "Puff"