I’m not cut out for this

Basilisk raised his brows when he saw the wolf before him. Deep scours slid across his form, fresh and bleeding. Despite the clear pain they must be in, the mossy toned wolf pushed a turkey towards him, and admitted to needing a place to call home. “A hunter is always welcome. I accept…?” he paused, giving a moment for the stranger to interject their name.

“I’m Basilisk, and this is Oleander” he continued, nodding to the white wolf beside him as he introduced them both.. “Tend to our newest wolf Ollie, you can check my stitches later” He instructed his small healer.


"Basilisk"