This didn't go to plan

Basilisk might be as tall as a polar bear, but once they were on their hind legs they towered over even him. All the same, he had been foolish enough to take one on alone. He had come out the victor, but he came away with a bad gash on one foreleg, and down his side. 

Blood mattered his fur as he staggered into the woods. He knew he needed to get to Wylan, or perhaps even his new slave. But once he crossed over the scent marking into Armada, the sense of relief stole away his strength. He staggered into the tall grass, and seated himself gingerly on the ground. Just a short break, then.