Smartmouthed

Oleander had been in a right bad mood. He didn't like being out of his depth and he didn't like when his efforts to soothe and comfort were rebuffed. (Oh really?) What the hell was he supposed to do with a sassy mouthed slave that expected him to fuck her and slap her around? Fuck! Oh is that how it's used as a curse word? FUCK.

He had practically stomped out of the treehouse and felt the need to run, fight a polar bear, or something to punch. He had been raised not to punch others when he was frustrated or angry. And he had been a rather frustrated angry and delirious little boy most of his childhood. So he took a run to cool off that day.

The experienced healer had come and gone and his skills and knowledge had thoroughly been expanded since.

It was time to plan out the clinic and his own space. He walked into the northern warren and started walking through it, taking a tally of what dens were empty, and mapping them out. One of the scouts might be better at this than he was. Or Igita, she was always doing something smart like this. It seemed like most of the dens adjacent to Bas's stairs and Iggy's den were largely passageways and empty. They could probably widen a few of these and rebuild a wall over here for stability or something. Don't want the whole mountain crashing down.

He stepped back out and called for Basilisk, in a non-urgent tone.


"Speech"