Castaway

A call in his name was still rather new to Basilisk. He raised his head, fighting his thoughts free from the mental tunnels they were taking. He vaguely recognized the voice, he was trying to build a better knowledge of the wolves under his command. Bronze. An apprentice, through the rank apprentice had changed.

He got to his paws, and trotted from the woods into the Col. Whatever the Apprentice's reason for calling him, the new Warlord wouldn’t keep him waiting. He found Bronze not far from where the meeting had been, and nodded his head to the little wolf. “What can I do for you?” He asked, through he had a hunch.

"Basilisk"