remember not our faulty pieces

Basilisk yawned widely as he made his way home. It was strange, to be heading out into the woods instead of the cave he had grown up in. Strange, and elating. He was going home, not to a nagging mother and a crowd of littermates, but to Hazel. His best friend in this world. The thought of it never failed to bring a smile to his maw. Even after a long gruelling day of patrolling the market. Breaking up fights, and giving the stink eye to anyone who looked like trouble.

He wanted a snack (he always wanted a snack) and to find his favourite pillow (Hazel) and complain about his day. He knew she would get a kick out hearing about the old wrinkly lady wolf that had tried to sell glass as crystal. He climbed up to the tree house and found Hazel with her breastplate before her. He yawned again, and flopped down beside her, resting his head on her back, his eyes to the stars. “Tell me your day was more fun than mine” he said, a hint of a whine in his voice.


"Speech"