white knight

When Casimir moved to bed down, Basilisk gave him a smile that was surprisingly warm. “I know you're weary, friend, But just a little while longer.” He promised, touching a paw to the others elbow as he indicated for them to follow. “The market isn't as warm or as comfortable as the storage den. This is a place for outsiders, and you belong in the heart of the Armada.” He explained, as he moved to lead the wolf away.


It took them back out into the storm once more. The wind stole away words and warmth, But the trott to the den was a short one. Shaking snow from his coat -  the blizzard had started - he stepped inside, moving to the side so Casimir could enter before Basilisk wrestled with the door. Closing it against the storm. He looked into the hallway, and turned his attention back to the white wolf. “To your right you'll find our food and material storages. To your left and further down you'll find our underground stream Which is heated by magma that runs under the surface. It's warm all year round. If you want to bathe and warm yourself, I can sort out some bedding and food for you” he suggested, knowing the rest of his wolves would have finished their tasks and bedded down until the storm had blown its course.