Drums... drums in the deep

Basilisk turned instantly at the sound of her gasp. Taking a few steps back to her, careful not to touch her as he bent down and looked at her ankle. “What have you done now.” He growled softly. He looked up at her expression, kneeling to look at her paw as he was, he actually had to look up for once. “I didn’t mean for this to happen…” He told her unhappily. “I’d intended to prepare you for the part of organising for the pack, and release you from slave to find your own path in the Armada. Now… now I don’t want to let you go.” he brushed a paw across her ankle, whisper-soft. “I want you.” He let his paw drop away, but didn’t move from his position, crouched before her.

“I don’t know what to do, Ignita. I won’t hurt Hazel, I can’t. She’s been hurt everywhere she’s turned in life. Her own father tried to kill her.” But the affection he felt for Ignita had bubbled up unbidden. He thought he could push it into a category of caregiver, but the heat inside of him had shown that for the lie it was. Not for the first time, he thought of what it would feel like to take her.


"Basilisk Fatalis"