Since her previous hunting trap had been such a success, Pitch decided to give it another go. The woman had chosen the land in between two packs, deciding that, if they stumbled upon it, her efforts could be used for the good of others as well. Once the pit was dug, anyone that chose to could run prey into it.

The gold marked fae chose to put the pit in a place where two large willows rested beside one another, making a natural pathway through the land. It would be the path of least resistance for fleeing prey, so it made sense to Pitch. First she marked out the length and width of the pit that she planned to dig. Once satisfied with its location, the obsidian woman put her paws to work and began to dig.

"Pitch"

Basilisk wandered through the towering willow trees, their sweeping branches often in the way. The earth beneath his paws was soft from the channels of water that ran between the roots. It smelled like earth and sea salt to his senses.

Yawning, he considered what tracks and scents were around him. Knowing he’d been sent out to hunt, and wasn’t one to come home empty handed. As he sampled the air however, it wasn’t prey that caught his attention. Following the trail of the scent, he found the older woman digging in the soil. Her markings exotic and shiny, light in the shadows of her coat. “Hey, whatcha making?” he asked curiously.

"Speech"

Black ears perked as a young voice sounded from behind her. The dark fae turned her head, gold and russet eyes falling upon the surprisingly large form of what was still evidently a young boy. His question brought a soft smile to her features and she motioned to the hole that she had been digging. "There are boar nearby. I plan to dig a pit and run one into it. Care to help?" The fae's ears lifted along with her accented tones.

Pitch continued to dig, shaping the pit as she went along. Some wolves filled these things with stakes, but she didn't feel the need for such a mess. Just a trip into the pit would likely injure a boar enough so that she could jump in and finish the job. As she worked, midnight paws raking at the earth, her gaze flashed to the boy again. "I am called Pitch. What might your name be, young one?"


"Pitch"

Basilisk’s ears picked up at that. He had learnt a little about making traps - but that had been for fish. He hadn’t thought about making something that would take down something bigger. He eyed the earth she had been digging again, his curiosity perked. “How do you trick them into falling in?” he asked, wanting to fully understand the nature of it.

He did however obediently trot over. Fearless of the stranger as he eyed her progress for a moment, and then sought to mimic it. Ensuring they both had enough room to work as he did so. “I’m Basilisk Fatalis. It’s nice to meet you, Pitch.”

"Speech"

The boy seemed intrigued and questioned the gilded fae. "When the pit is finished, you put things over and around it to make it look natural. Then you run your prey towards it and hope that they fall in." She motioned to the natural path that ran between the two trees. "If you chase your prey, they won't run through the hanging branches of the willows. To be as fast as possible, they'll run between them. That's where you put the pit." She found that to be a suitable explanation, but if he needed to know more, she would gladly teach him.

Soon the lad gave his name as Basilisk and he moved in to join her. With such big paws, they would make short work of the hole. Pitch continued digging, pushing dirt up and out of the pit as it became deeper and deeper. Soon, it would be adequate enough for what they needed.

"Pitch"

“That’s really good thinking” He said approvingly, eyeing the two trees she had chosen to dig between. He hoped she would let him help run the pigs, too. He paused in his digging, shaking some of the fallen mud from his head as he looked back over at the older wolf.

“If we get more than one, do you mind if I take one?” he asked. He was either going to learn a valuable lesson, and hopefully reuse her pit, or she would make things even easier, and he would get to take one of these pigs home with him. Either way, it seemed very likely that he would be going home successful in a few hours.

"Speech"

Basilisk praised her idea and Pitch gave a little smile accompanied by a nod of thanks. The woman jumped up and out of the hole and began collecting willow branches, snapping off the long tendrils with sharp teeth. Once she had a decently sized pile, she began placing them over the pit, shielding the darkness of the damp earth with the bright, light foliage.

As she worked, the boy questioned her. Pitch stopped and turned her attention fully to the boy. "I would expect nothing less, Basilisk," she spoke in her rich, mellifluous tones. "If we somehow only catch one, I only need enough for tonight's meal. The rest is yours." With the hole dug and covered, the woman shook the excess dirt from her coat. She'd need a bath after this. "Are you ready to catch some pigs? We just need to get behind them, then run the group this way. You have to be on your toes, they're fast, can turn quickly, and will try to scatter. We need to try and keep them all in a bunch."

"Pitch"

As Pitch jumped out of the hole, the towering pup followed suit. Scrambling up the side with his clumsy giant body. Letting out a soft huff as he made it up the side, and to the security of flat land. Covered in a rather impressive amount of muck.

“Excellent” the boy said, flashing her a bright grin. Even if they only got one, he would have something to bring home to his father. “I owe you one Pitch, thanks” he added. After all, this entire thing was her idea.

He helped (if a little clumsily) to cover the hole with willow branches, and then the trap was ready. “I’m ready” he agreed, and assuming she knew where to find her prey, he stepped up beside her.

"Speech"

Basilisk stated that he owed her one and the fae smiled, her amber eyes twinkling as the corners lifted. "Such manners," she complimented. And with that, they were on their way. The woman's dark nose worked as she padded along. Pigs were easy to scent out as they were more than a little pungent. They also left wallows in their wake and, as they neared the area where their prey would be, big, muddy holes began to appear.

Pitch stepped up close to Basilisk and slid her muzzle close to his ear. "Quiet now, they're just around the bend. We need to get behind them before we run them. I'll take the left and you take the right. We'll work together to keep them in line and run them towards the pit." With that, she stepped away, her long, ink blot of a tail snaking across the ground one last time before she lifted it off of the ground. Carefully and quietly, she picked her way through the willows, using the long branched trees for cover until she was behind the group of pigs. Once she was able to fix her mismatched gaze upon them, she noted five of them, all bunched together in a big patch of mud.

"Pitch"

Basilisk grinned back at her, and decided not to mention that he had been scolded many times in his young life for his lack of manners. Sometimes, it seemed, he managed to get it right. He followed after her through the Willow trees, and quickly caught the scent she was following. He almost tripped in a wallow once or twice - but at least he did so quietly.

As the golden tinged wolf stepped up to him, he ducked his head closer to her, listening to her soft whisper. He gave his head a sharp nod of acknowledgment. “Got it” he whispered, veering off towards the right as he made his way around the pigs, waiting for a sign from Pitch to give the go ahead.


"Speech"

Pitch waited for Basilisk to get into place, waiting until their eyes met through the willow branches. The woman took a deep breath then gave a nod. With that, she launched herself through the wispy branches with a bark and a snap of her teeth. The muddied pigs released squeals of alarm and took off. She had warned the boy that they were fast and they did their best to prove her right. Pitch kept her ears tucked as her long legs brought her flying after her prey. She stayed on the left, snapping at the heels of pigs that tried to veer away and escape. She wasn't having any of that. Her goal was to land at least two pigs into the pit. She didn't eat much and she wasn't much of a fan of dried meats or next day meals. Perhaps she was spoiled, but Pitch liked her meat fresh. If they landed two, she would help the boy take the second one back to the pack that she could smell so heavily on his dark coat.

"Pitch"

He met her gaze. Golden and bright, and visible to him through the cover of branches. Her nod was all he needed. An excited grin enveloped his face as the titan of a pup launched himself forward with a snarl. It was immediately chaos. The pigs fled from him and Pitch, running in circles more than a straight line.

He snarled and snapped and even drew blood from the haunches of one particularly troublesome pig. Running back and forth himself in a bid to keep them from escaping him. If Willow the reindeer had been here, he would have been laughing his head off. For that matter, so would Hazel.


"Speech"

As the slender fae's long legs pumped, paws barely touching earth as she seemed to fly, she spared glances towards the boy. He seemed to be doing well enough and she decided to not worry about whether or not he would be able to hold up his side. One particularly troublesome pig cut to the left and the obsidian fae dove over one of the many small streams, putting on a burst of speed to snap her teeth down on its tufted tail. A scream of pain pulled from the pig and it zigged back to join the rest of the group.

In time, the pair of wolves had the pigs right where they wanted them. With snaps of teeth and guttural snarls, Pitch instilled fear in the running meals, whipping them into a nervous fervor. She could see the covered pit up ahead and hoped that their work would pay off. The pigs should have been too nervous to even think about how strange the land might have looked. In the end, they were.

With squeals of alarm, two pigs fell into the hole. One giant and one small. Without missing a beat, Pitch dove into the hole, her teeth finding the tender throat of one pig. Both had snapped their legs in the fall and wouldn't put up much of a fight.

"Pitch"

Basilisk let out an excited howl at the chase, unable to help himself really. He grinned, tongue lolling free as they herded the pigs towards the pit. He saw the way Pitch increased their fear the closer they got, until there was nothing but fear in them as they reached the pit, and toppled in. two pigs, perfect.

Basilisk slammed on the brakes, slowing himself down as much as he could before he hid the pit. Unable to stop himself completely, he used his momentum to leap into the pit. Careful not to break his own legs on the flailing pigs as he stopped over the one Pitch hadn’t gone for, and snapped his elongated fangs over its neck. Stilling its frantic struggle.

"Speech"

Basilisk dove into the pit beside her and dispatched his pig just as quickly. Bam. Just like they, they both had their kills. Pitch sat back, tongue lolling out of her slender maw as she caught her breath. "Well done," she complimented with a smile. "This pit isn't going anywhere, so you could use it whenever you want since your pack is so close," she advised.

Having caught her breath, the woman latched her teeth into the smaller pig and, somehow, worked her way out of the hole, using ever ounce of her strength to pull the carcass out behind her. Once she was finished with that, she aided Basilisk in removing the larger pig from the hole. "I'll help you drag these back to your pack. Imagine how impressed everyone will be with you." The gilded fae chuckled and began pulling the carcass towards the border of the boys pack.

"Pitch"

He grinned at the compliment, licking blood from his lips. “Your plan worked perfectly’ he complimented back. He did startle a little in surprise as she mentioned his pack. “You know about the Armada?” he wondered, being naive and young enough not to realise what scents she picked from his fur.

He dragged the large pig out of the den. Needing help more with the finesse of manoeuvring from the hole then the strength of it. Strength, the boy had in abundance. But, dragging it all the way home sounded less appealing than having some help and company. “That would be great, thanks!” He agreed. He doubted his dad would be impressed, but he wouldn’t be disappointed and that was what was really important.


"Speech"