Drums... drums in the deep

Basilisk did not expect the fire of her response. The placid girl responded instantly, pulling away and turning on him. She was so small, so fragile in the snow before him. He lowered himself down on his hunches, bringing himself closer to her level, his tail swaying back and forth behind him. He looked less like a chastised wolf, and more like one with their eyes on prey and waiting for their moment to strike.

She continued to yell and rage, showing a passion and a fire she had largely hidden before now. The heat in his eyes grew a little more as he watched her. She ended her tirade with the demand of a promise, and he watched her for a long moment. Watched her drive her face into the snow, the edges of a sentence not finished standing between them. He sat there, silent, predatory. “I can make only one of those promises. You will not die, nor leave.”

"Basilisk Fatalis"