Basilisk had left his father trumming with energy, with a need to move and do something. He had been excited to bring home the news of his father to his small found family. Now he was returning to their meeting point, and his paws felt heavy and his body so difficult to move. Hazel’s words still plagued him. His vanished siblings. The cost of his fathers love. Love that he still found himself wanting to fight for. To see pride in his fathers eyes. It went against everything inside of him to disappoint Azure, and he found himself slowing the closer he got to his father.

He didn’t want to tell him that he had chosen the Armada. That he had chosen to stay. He knew it might yet cost him his father.

He arrived at last, and found Azure already there waiting for him. He dipped his head to his father. To the wolf that had beasted him the last time they had met. “Azure.” He said softly.

"Speech"

Azure raised his sizable head from the low branch that had served as his makeshift pillow. He had always had a special affinity for this particular willow, its trunk twisted and distorted so severely that almost seemed capable of enveloping him. The mix of brown and blue fur left on the bark made clear the considerable time he had recently spent here, immersed in contemplation and clinging to this small piece of familiarity that remained.

"Bas." He echoed in the same soft tones, making no move to stand or approach his son. Azure could see the conflict in his son's eyes; he only hoped Bas could not see the disappointment in his. "How is Spider, and Hazel?"

"Speech"

He strained his ears, trying to read anything he could from his sires' few words. But the tawny blue wolf gave little away. His father didn’t approach him, and that he read into that just fine. Azure was keeping a separation between them. “They are loyal to the Armada. Their lives and homes are there.” He explained, his voice a tad wistful. What he had considered his life and home for so long was shortly going to walk away from him. Would he see Asure again after today?

“There’s more” He continued, his words slowing a little more. He didn’t know how Azure would take this. With pride? With regret? “Sirius intends to retire in a season, and pass the pack on to his heir.”


"Speech"

They are loyal to the Armada.

It was a statement that Azure could not refute. Absolute loyalty was what he'd always wished for... though he'd wished for loyalty to him, not simply to the crown. He shifted, muscles clenching, claws raking through the grass. Basilisk had made his choice and Azure felt loss.

There's more.  

Az's torn ears twitched, his jaw tight. What more could there possibly be? Basilisk's hesitation was hard to miss, and Azure braced himself for more.

Oh.

Sirius was to retire? Why? Disgust brought his lip to curl - it was that bitch's influence, wasn't it? How sad it was that the mighty Warlord would be brought down by something as common as a rebound. His head shook slightly, a sigh upon his lips. The Armada would benefit, at least, as Basilisk took the throne. Az's brows furrowed at the thought. He wasn't ready. That much was clear. Hazel and Spider were loyal to the Armada - so loyal, that Bas could not tempt them away - but was Bas? Just days ago the boy was insistent on joining him.... and Az had commanded him away.

"I see." He spoke softly, contemplative. "And you will accept the position." It was a question, posed as a statement.

Basilisk knew that his grandfather expected old age to take him before he reached another full rotation of the seasons. It was for this reason, and this reason alone that the old wolf passed on his pack. Basilisk had expected to have his father's support when this day eventually came, but his father had turned his back on everything and everyone. He had given up everything he had worked towards. Hazel was right, Azure could not be relied on. It almost physically hurt to consider, but he need only to look at his own siblings to see the truth of it. He buried the longing in his heart. The need to be a part of his father's world, and to make him proud. He would always love his Father, but the wolf before him could no longer have his trust or respect. Not after he had turned his back on the Armada. Because he wasn't just turning his back on the pack that had raised him, but his entire family as well. 

“The wheel turns. The First Warlord is dying of old age, my father abdicated, and so now the crown will shortly be mine. Of course I will accept it, it's what you've groomed me for my whole life.” He said simply. Those words said so little in comparison to the war in his heart. He didn't want his father to go.