You own me like whispers in poetry

He could see her doubt, her dislike for this idea. She didn't think she was capable, But Basilisk knew she was underestimating herself. And that was okay, he knew her pressure points.


He leaned back, his tail swinging lazily behind him as he watched her. His expression looked casual, but in truth his appraisal was anything but. “Our children are born, And there's a tiny girl. A little runt of the litter, smaller than you are. She's young, not even a season old but you take her into the woods. It's pack territory, and safe there. You're teaching her how to harvest flowers for paint when you hear a noise. A panther has slipped past the guards. Its just you and our tiny little girl. No one else will get there in time. Do you throw her at the tiger to buy yourself time to run, or do you do something. he raised his voice into a growl. “or do you just stand there, helpless, while it kills this girl child and wish you'd paid more attention to me now?” He'd seen her fight the bear. He knew her instincts weren't to run. He remembered the cat in the walls. It happened, it could happen again.