the bard's last note

Basilisk looked down at his captive, until movement caught his eye. Orso, who had come up on the other side of Pluto, remained there still. Larimar was indicating something before the gold wolf. Indeed, the man's actions seemed a little sketchy as he moved carefully to keep something hidden from view.

Leaning forward, the colossal giant of a wolf stretched over Pluto and found the bag he was trying to hide just out of view. He pressed a paw against Pluto’s chest, and snagged the bag with his teeth. Ensuring the smaller wolf could do nothing to stop him. Resistance was futile against a wolf the size of the Warlord.

“I’ll hang onto this until my Consort has a chance to ensure there's nothing dangerous here.” He said thoughtfully, nudging the golden wolf. “Let's get you into the caverns, they’re heated by an underground miasma.” He said, as if he hadn’t just taken everything the golden wolf owned in an afterthought.


"Basilisk"