maybe, I

The northern cold was well familiar to the new Warlord. Snow crunched under his paws as he made his way along the treeline of his territory. Completing the rotation of his patrol as the afternoon came to an end. He would have turned back inwards, perhaps past the healer's den and grabbed something for sleep, but the scent of a fire distracted him. Fire was always a worry in woodland territory, but he knew it wouldn’t spread in this season. In fact, he couldn’t imagine how it would have started on his own.

Curiosity brought him forward, out of the Armada, and to the territory over the mines. His paws took him to the start of the mine caves, where the scent was much clearer. He could see the smoke now, wafting out of the entrance. He pulled his giant form into the entrance, and found the wolf and what was clearly their meal there. “Hello?” Basilisk said, though he shouldn’t really have been surprised to find someone at the end of his puzzle. “I didn’t mean to intrude, the scent of your fire caught my attention.”

WC: 191
total: 779

"Basilisk Fatalis"