white knight

Basilisk’s brow raised as the white wolf took a step back. Expecting trouble, was he? The Warlord remained as he was, watching and giving the other a chance to adjust. “So I’ve heard.” He said dryly, a hint of humour beneath his words. “A pleasure to meet you Casimir” He said, thinking upon the other’s words for a moment. “The Armada is open to recruiting, what strengths would you bring to the pack, where do your interest lie?”

The wind was picking up around them, howling through the spaces between the rocks. He understood that this conversation would have to be a short one if he intended to continue it outside. “Come, follow me, we can finish this inside.” He instructed the white wolf, turning to lead them a short way to the marketplace. Empty of wolves for the coming storm, with light skins tossed over stalls. The quiet was immediate as the moved where the wind couldn’t reach them.


"Basilisk Fatalis"