Until the end of days

The organisation of the Hallows astounded him. From the moment he arrived, he could see the buzz and flow of planning going on around him. Food was being prepared, places for the guests were set up. The scene was carefully crafted by the experienced paws of the Hallows and he felt honoured and a little baffled seeing it all take place. No, he knew if he had hosted his own wedding it would not have reached this level of detail.

Ignita deserved this.

He’d have to make sure to give Artorias one of their last bottles of Halo’s mead before they left. His thank-you gift to their host and officiant. He looked about the room, ensuring he hadn’t forgotten anything. His fur was neatly groomed, he’d requested the paint delivered to where Artorias was waiting. He’d set Spider in charge of the pups (poor thing.). He had no other reason to dawdle, and time was slipping past him. He took a deep breath, astonished at the trepidation swirling in his gut. It felt an awful lot like fear. He needed to walk to that door, he needed to conquer these last minute nerves that suddenly had hold of him. He stared at the door, and almost like magic, it opened.

Oleander stepped in, and Basilisk stared at the white wolf as the healer approached. “Ollie, what are you doing here?” had it been in the plan for Ollie to turn up at his door? He suddenly couldn’t remember.
“Oh, just taking a last minute stroll and looking for that pesky Groom, Have you seen him around here? Big fella, black and blue."
Basilisk blinked at him in confusion for a moment. “He kind of has somewhere to be right now, do you remember?” Basilisk shot back dryly.

“Yeah, I thought he’d like a sip of my special Grooms Tincture.” The healer said, adding on a wink. Actually… that wasn’t a terrible idea. Had Oleander suspected the sudden bout of nerves the Warlord would feel when that closed door was presented to him? “I’m listening.” at his words, Ollie handed him a small bottle of mead. He was no expert, but did he catch maybe a hint of something herbal in there? At that moment, he didn’t care, he took a deep swallow. Feeling.. Oddly better, just having someone else there with him right now. It wasn’t the first time Oleander had had his back.

He handed the bottle back to his Healer and walked through the door Oleander had opened. The shot of courage carrying him forward as he made his way out of the castle, the white wolf at his side. They entered the Grove, and heard the sounds of other wolves, the scents of many around them. Why did he decide to do this publicly. He started to turn, and Oleander, despite his smaller size, grabbed him by the shoulders. He looked at the white wolf, his eyes wide. All this time, and Basilisk had never anticipated the crowd. He was the Warlord, he had stood before his pack. But this was different. Oleander stared at him down, and nodded towards the clearing he was supposed to be entering. The support was clear in his gaze. He didn’t speak, but the message was loud and clear. It was too late to let his nerves swallow him now. He took another breath, held his head high, and stepped through the Grove. He found the Arbor and the blue Lord of Cinder immediately. He moved towards the Hallows Wolf, and came to a stop before his Uncle in Law. He offered the man a small smile, and turned his attention forward. To where his Ignita should be appearing any moment now.


"Basilisk" | "Ignita"

Oleander Powerplaying directly approved by Elin