“Yeah… I was born on The Long Night. So I suppose it was before your time. Did your pack ever talk about it?” He asked her. “Things got a little… weird. Mostly bad. If you see wolves with crystals or mushrooms growing out of them, they're a product of the long night. But the dead changed then too, at least from what I understand of it. My grandmother has a strong connection to flames.” He shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the talk of dead people. He hadn't been that close to Zee, but his inheriting of the Armada meant he warranted a visit, or something like that.


Her next question made his lip twitch a little in amusement. Yeah, she was going to laugh when he told her what it stood for. Considering his own predicament. “Alright, let's get into some Armada history.” His grandfather had made sure he knew it. “Sirius was born as a slave to an empire - The Ashen Empire. He had been born as a warrior slave, but his father had died before he had a chance to raise and train him. So instead, he was gifted to Deathbelle, one of the Princesses. As a slave and companion, I guess. He loved her, but didn't believe himself worthy of her. She loved him, too but I guess she couldn't convince him. He eventually had the ambition to build the Armada, and set it up as the first line of defence for Ashen and the woman he loved. But there was also Zee. Deathbells personal slave. They fell in love, and the dynamic of the Armada changed because of. Slowly over the years it became less Deathbells warriors, and more a fortress he built around Zee and their kids to raise and protect them. His most basic belief was that the best way to win a fight, was to ensure it didn't happen. Everything he did, he did to build himself a reputation so that people would be too afraid to hurt his wolves. Guess it didn't work, since Zee was kidnapped, abused, and eventually that weakness killed her… but I digress. The Armada is a fortress for the people we love.”

Nope, she had no information on this Long Night, she made a note to look into that in the future. Crystal and mushrooms growing *out* of wolves? It sounds a little more than weird... The dead changed too and Zee had a strong connection to flames, fascinating!

She scribbled down notes as he talked about the history of the Armada but at some point, she got caught up in the story. The charcoal held aloft over the paper as her golden eyes watched Basilsik retell the events that built the pack of Armada itself. The way he ended the tale made her jaw go slack for just a moment. She blinked in the silence that followed and closed her mouth with a faint clap.

The Armada is a fortress for the people we love...

She was a slave in a pack founded by slaves, descended from slaves, it was starting to make more and more sense.

"That's a really sweet story. Poor Zee." She commented and scrawled that the Armada was a fortress for the people we love. She didn't laugh, she seemed thoughtful instead. It was why Bas was intent on carrying on, being the leader. The pack was literally founded on the principles of protecting and loving your family, values he held quite close to his heart... values Ignita had yet to truly experience.

She fumbled her charcoal.

Suddenly her chest felt like it ached for a flash, just a moment. The merest moment her body betrayed her mind before she could squirrel away the pain of never being wanted. It was fine, she was fine, what were they talking about?

She picked up the charcoal and fumbled it again.

Right... history of Armada... Cleaning out this den... Putting up a little sun catcher...

She picked it up and drew rough spirals on the paper, a drop of water suddenly appeared on it and she looked up to see if the cave was dripping on her but it was dry as a bone. She didn't realize a tear had broken through the numbed barriers and fell down her cheek to land on the paper.

"That's weird..." Her voice was strained and half choked but she didn't know why, "It's not dripping in here..." Another phantom tear appeared under a golden eye as she looked up at him confused and oblivious.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at having talked so much. There was a lot of history in the Armada, and he had condensed it down to its barest form. It didn’t really do it justice, but it gave her a basic foundation for what the pack was. Instead of being amused - the pack was those they loved, when betrayal had recently struck him - she called it a sweet story. “Yeah, I think that's part of why Sirius stepped down instead of remaining leader until he died. His reason for the pack…” He shrugged. He respected Sirius, even if he did feel he hadn’t gotten the same chance to learn the ropes alongside him as Azure did.

He was too distracted to notice when Ignita fumbled her charcoal. The first time, or the second. He was feeling a little wistful, wondering if his and Hazel’s love would be big enough to move mountains like his Grandfathers. His own fathers love of Hana had seemed more conditional.

He sighed, turning back to Ignita, and tilted his head to the side in puzzlement. “Hey… hey” He said, crouching in front of her. He tucked a paw under her chin and forced it upright, using the other paw to wipe away a tear. “What is it?” The story hadn’t been that touching, had it?

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

She was confused when he crouched in front of her, his expression of concern made her furrow her brow and the wetness on her cheek as he wiped it away... She was crying? Why? Again? How had she not known she was crying? His warmth and his breath so close made the ache in her chest flutter harder, urging her to acknowledge it.

"My... Heart... hurts?" She asked aloud, not sure what it meant. She drew in a shuddering breath and a wave washed over her. "No one... No one wanted me..." She couldn't stem the tide. Her words tumbled out without her permission, she didn't know what a loving family would have been like. "No one has ever..." Protected, wanted, loved... her...

Another few drips of tears, she weakly shook her head. "It's-Its silly. I'm sorry. I-I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm fine." She tried to sniff away the feelings, shore up the dam, tuck away the pain again. He didn't want to see that, he didn't care, no one would.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

He stayed crouched in front of her as she seemed to work through what she was feeling. Trying to put it into words. As she started to speak, even the oblivious young Warlord could see what the problem was. He had told her a story of what lengths a wolf would go to protect those they loved. Her own pack did not seem to care for her. To them, she was more of a play thing than a real being.

“You belong somewhere now, Ignita. I would fight for you.” He said simply, placing the truth out there as he already knew it. “For some time now you’ve been a slave in title only. You’ve become part of my family. Your someone who matters to me.” Though feelings were never something he was wholly comfortable with. He leaned back a little on his hunches, giving her some space.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

His words... She didn't understand. She grasped at his words with her mind like they were motes of dust in the dark.
She belonged.... He would fight... For her? But... Why? Her eyes of molten sunlight dashed about in the dimness of the cavern seeking his gaze of skies. What did it mean? Family? Her body was frozen, afraid, afraid, afraid but she didn't know exactly what she was afraid of now.

"I... Me?" She mouthed "what" in the half light, as if to her self, another tear, then another glistened over her cheeks unbidden. The flutter in her ribcage reached her throat like a sliver of hope and fear. Fear in accepting it, hope in believing it.

He stepped back and she felt like she was allowed to breathe... Was this a trick? Was he testing her again? Was he dangling his words on a string just to take them back again? Was he joking like they were before? Doubt crept in believing it could keep her heart safe, she could never be safe. She just had to be busy, keep thinking, keep solving the problems, be useful. It was what she was made for... It was what she was good for.

She forced a half-laugh through a choking sob, "Thats-thats a good one Basilisk." She sniffed and wiped the wetness off her cheek, "I almost believed you." She coughed to hide a choking sob, her lips pulled down, she wiped the other side of her face another fresh tear wept down.  

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

At first he was amused by her denial as she struggled to adjust to this change. Asking “me?” As if he could be talking to another wolf in the dark, empty den. 


When her sobs twisted over a laughter, he realised she wasn't going to believe his words. Her last alpha who had truly considered her only a pet had damaged her sense of self. But Ignita was his now, and he… well she was family. He would fight her doubt for her sake. He kept this small distance between them, crouching Down so they were at eye level


“I'm not that good at emotions Ignita. I don't tell, and hug and cry it out. I would have thought you would have seen it by now in my actions instead. I've given you gifts that matter to you. I've given you the best care. Even this den that I've been digging out just for you.”

He crouched to her level, a massive male nearly three times her size, and looked her in her teary golden eyes. He reminded her of the gifts he gave her, of how he wasn't the emotional hugging type.

Something in the sliver of fear and hope stuck in her throat dared to break. He was fighting for her here, right before her eyes, fighting against the whispers of her past by reminding her of the care he had already shown her, the care she even called him out on just a few moments ago even.

The glistening tears fell more easily now, the dam about to break.

He was fierce in his care and protection for those he loved and somehow, Ignita got to be included in the space between his great and ferocious paws. She remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms after her panic attack yesterday. Was it really just yesterday? It already felt like weeks ago...

She was still scared he didn't mean it, but it was smaller now. Would she dare? Could she dare? Would he pull away if she tried to step into those great arms he used to protect, to fight, to build a fortress for Hazel and Spider... For her?

Slowly, gingerly, she ducked under his chin and climbed into the space between his legs, burying her pale and golden face into the night of his fur. Softly she wept and slowly she relaxed into him. Letting the pain of her kidnapped childhood, her ridicule at the paws of her first jailer, and even the pain Basilisk had caused her when he took her captive weave and flow away from them and pool onto the cave floor.

She eventually shuddered, her nerves wrecked and released. Exhausted but suddenly feeling lightheaded and filled with air. Her small head laid on one of his arms, "Thank you... Bas." She whispered, her voice hoarse. She was still a slave, she would be a slave, but she was His slave. She didn't think she'd mind if she was his slave forever, as long as she was his.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

He could see when he was winning the battle. When she began to move, seeking him for comfort. Comfort was hardly his fortae, but at least she wasn't asking for words. He didn't pull away when her tiny body settled in between her paws. Instead, he drew her a little closer. To his chest, to his heart. Which for some unfathomable reason was beating a little harder. 

He drew a paw around her, and let her cry it out. Dampening his chest with her tears. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't bother to say anything. He just let her feel it all, and let it out. He tucked his chin over her body, which fit so easily between his chest, paws, and chin. “Still Warlord in public to you.” He told, his voice sounding content instead of scolding as he rubbed her back a couple times.

Her eyes closed to the world for a few moments. Her touch starved skin sent ripples of tingling static through every strand of fur with each rub upon her back.

"Yes, of course." She replied with a relaxed and grateful exhale. She didn't expect anything to really change much. She had her jobs and her lists, and her goals. This wasn't on any of them though. She didn't know how long she could sit here, it was the closest to bliss she had ever reached.
Her mind was softly quiet for once, like a gentle hum. She felt protected, like the world and it's expectations were so very far away. His slave, her Warlord. She belonged to him in way she had never belonged anywhere before. Safe.

Absently she tried to use her dull claw to gently trace one of the blue markings over the black fur of his leg, as if he were her paper and her claw the charcoal.


"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He huffed a soft laugh at her simple reply. Their rolls had changed, but somehow still felt the same, as well. She was still his slave, and would be for a long time yet. In fact, he found himself reluctant to release her from that position. He liked having her at his beck and call. Her quick obedience translated to trust to him, and trust was in short supply. But he trusted her completely, and he found he didn’t want to give her autonomy and make her separate from him. But that was a problem he would deal with later.

He glanced down at her as he felt the movement of her claw, and frowned. A thoughtful expression. “You better not be drawing silly faces on me” He warned her. He gently nudged her then, too. She might be touch starved, but he was much the opposite. Prolonged contact could be awkward for him. It fell into a similar category as his struggle to share emotions.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

A smile played on her lips as he warned her about drawing silly faces, nudging her to get up.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Warlord." The way she said his title now was with a layer of affection and trust, no tease, malice, or venom. Her paws were made of anvils as she gathered the strength to comply, but comply she did.
She pulled herself up, loathing the shift in temperature against her fur. She didn't complain, or huff or sigh. She grabbed her charcoal and paper to see if she could get back to the task, clearing out one of his gifts to her so she could call it her own.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

She got to her paws without complaint, giving him space as she went back to the work of drawing or planning, or whatever her scribbles were for. He watched her work in silence for a while, just sitting there, content to watch his little slave. He hadn't expected how much damage there would be from her past life. How much it would start to matter to him. In truth, he was in a little bit of a turmoil at how much she had come to matter. He was comfortable with his inner circle, with Hazel and Spider being his world. What did the two of them think of this girl? This tiny little troublemaker that he had dragged into their lives? 


It…scared him, a little. But it was too late for regrets, too late to change what had happened. He sighed, shaking his head and lifting his eyes from the petite wolf at last. “I suppose I should get back to work before you fire me as Warlord.” He groaned, shaking out his paws before setting them against the opening once more.

She let him watch her, not feeling annoyed or unwelcome, it felt comfortable for him to watch her as she worked. She'd steal a glance his way for just a moment then continue a sketch. She didn't ask his permission to sketch him but her feelings about him had changed quite a bit over the last few days and she needed a new one to reflect on.

She chuckled at his ridiculous joke and moved on to the plans for her new den. This time watching him for a little more than a moment, wondering what might happen once he finished clearing the entryway. What did Hazel think of her? She was far from dreaming about taking Hazel's place and certainly didn't believe Bas was even entertaining the idea of breaking Hazel's trust. She hoped Hazel wouldn't think Ignita was trying to steal Bas. Not at all, she was just... a servant. Perhaps more a kin to a family pet... Probably.

She let him work as she tried to find a good place to let light in, she wondered if they could make some glass to go over the opening so it wasn't too cold in winter.


"Speech"