our love of life and tension

Basilisk was snoring, and dreaming about - surprise, surprise - food. Tables of it. Tables bending under the weight of it. The scent of meats of every variety, from fish to fowl. So rich he could almost taste it. His mouth was watering, which meant he drooled a little too. A sudden sharp nose woke him with a start, and the image of food vanished with a wink from his thoughts. He growled softly, wiping his damp mouth with a paw and pulling himself to his paws.

Wait, what had Hazel said? Frowning, he shoved open the door and found Hazel there, looking a little worse for wear. “Give me that” He growled as he reached her and grabbed the armour with his paws, pulling it off her coat. He wasn’t a healer, but with Halo so close, he had all but been forced to learn the basics. We should clean it, to be safe. Is Halo home?” Hazel would have scented her on the way up if she was.


"Speech"