Chill of the dark

Basilisk felt his eyebrow creep slowly upwards at that revelation. “Lets not have me dead that fast” He said dryly, though admittedly, Ignita was one of the few wolves to see him at his most vulnerable. Injured after Kite had attacked him, knocked out by a polar bear. She’d seen that he could get hurt.

He awkwardly patted her as she clutched him and wept a little. He’d never been good at emotions at the best of times. He was furiously protective, and somewhat violent over those he loved. But emotional comfort? Not his strong suit. pat, pat, pat

“Ignita. Your mine.” He warned her, a hint of that possessiveness creeping into his tones. “You’ll not be rid of me so easily.”