Chase the wind

Basilisk had found a nice flat rock, and was perched part way onto it. Fully on the rock was his reindeer companion with dexterous hooves who was holding a piece of charcoal and writing notes as Basilisk spoke out loud. “Bronze is among the warriors now, that gives us twelve for the border rotations. Add a notation for days off and days on duty.” He instructed. He’d never had to give so much thought to logistics before this.

No small part of him was tempted to hand the work over to Ignita and tell her to ‘go, do.’ but he knew some things he just had to figure out himself. He scratched an itch below his eye with an extended claw and sighed, before relying more column for the deer to sketch out.

"Basilisk Fatalis"