For old times

Basilisk still had a great deal left to do, and he could feel time passing him by. There was a lot of wolves in the Armada to familiarise himself with, there were supplies to go through with the coming of winter. There was the meeting he needed to call, to make his stand and leadership clear.

He squinted at his smaller brother, and shook his head. “Never mind, I thought you were seeking me out” He said, realising he had misunderstood the intention of the gold trimmed wolf. “I’m calling a meeting, I’ll see you there” He said, running the logistics through his mind once more as he turned back to his path.


"Basilisk"