i took it all for the chase

Basilisk glanced at his new wolf with a faint hint of amusement. She seemed to slip into the roll easily enough, despite the defiance he had seen in her eyes not too long ago. To break her or build her up? That was the question. Much of the answer would depend on her, and what mood he was in at the time.


He led her back to the market, Slipping into the cavern and approaching the still sleeping wolf he had left to guard it for the night. The winged wolf's dark form was just another shadow in the darkness, his wings tightly pulled against his side. He gave Wylan a gentle kick in the ribs. Enough to wake up. His voice was less kind when he spoke. “You and I will be talking about this in the morning” he warned his winged heir, and continued on. Leading his new wolf into the Col. His wolf. The Warlord liked possession just a little too much. “Your new home is called the Armada. Your Master” he said the last with amused infliction “is Basilisk. You can address me as Warlord, or Master.” He informed her. The space in the cool was deserted, except for the guards at each end of the Col. The moonlight bathed his territory, and highlighted the old stone that held the pack's rules. “can you read?”