Dragging the still steaming carcass of an old boar, the violet brute slipped into the shelter of the mines. Not far, not deep. He wanted a view of the frozen landscape while he worked, and a bit of daylight to work by. The boar had fought well, and he had walked away with some wounds of his own for his troubles. The titanic young man dropped the grizzled boar once he was out of the wind, unable to feel it cutting into his skin through his dense pelage. It was a cooking type of evening, a rarity since he'd started travelling. However, this was a place he planned on staying, so he could afford to spend some time savouring his meals again. The first task was to set up a firepit. Being in a mine, there were plenty of cobbles about to collect and arrange in a rough circle near the mouth of the mineshafts. It took a bit longer to locate something to skewer his meat with, he didn't trust the rusted metal implements that littered the mines for the task. Instead, the amaranthine giant was forced to venture out towards the smattering of trees he could see a ways away, and utilize his bulk to take down a dead conifer. It was a young tree, too close to a well rooted, older neighbour. So he had very little trouble uprooting the leaning tree and dragging it to the mines. His meal was going to freeze soon if he didn't get the fire going. Branches snapped easily under his paws, and were hastily assembled within the ring of the firepit. So much of the bark crumbled at the slightest touch, that he shoved it into the pit by the pawful. There hadn't been a blizzard in a few days, so the wood wasn't wet with snow. It would make lighting the fire much easier. A series of haphazard stone strikes, a litany of muttered curses, and a few shabby sparks later- a pile of kindling was being readily devoured by a fledgling flame. Then it became time to dress the boar carcass before it froze solid. Peeling the hide away from the meat with his own fangs was an absolute misery, but he didn't have any knives anymore. A mixture of tugging and nipping and slicing with his claws, and the fire was quite well established by the time he'd managed to get the majority of the beast skinned. Resting the carcass on its own skin, he tore into the belly with abandon. The goal was to spill the entrails, get most of them out so that he wouldn't have to go digging around in there for the next few hours. The hunter was skilled enough to succeed on that front, and the guts slithered free of the boar's belly. Clearing them out took a few minutes, nipping and slicing and yanking at various bits to dislodge whatever would ruin the flavours of the meat. He left the liver, the heart, the lungs. Things that weren't full of partially digested meals or literal shit. Long shanks of wood broken from the knotted trunk of the felled tree impaled the old boar, and with a strained grunt, the giant managed to get his meal balanced on those skewers while he arranged a few other spears of wood that would hold the heavy carcass steady. Surround those posts with more stones, and now it was just a waiting game. (WC: 588/750 - using half word count seasonal pass to bring goal from 1500 to 750!)

The northern cold was well familiar to the new Warlord. Snow crunched under his paws as he made his way along the treeline of his territory. Completing the rotation of his patrol as the afternoon came to an end. He would have turned back inwards, perhaps past the healer's den and grabbed something for sleep, but the scent of a fire distracted him. Fire was always a worry in woodland territory, but he knew it wouldn’t spread in this season. In fact, he couldn’t imagine how it would have started on his own.

Curiosity brought him forward, out of the Armada, and to the territory over the mines. His paws took him to the start of the mine caves, where the scent was much clearer. He could see the smoke now, wafting out of the entrance. He pulled his giant form into the entrance, and found the wolf and what was clearly their meal there. “Hello?” Basilisk said, though he shouldn’t really have been surprised to find someone at the end of his puzzle. “I didn’t mean to intrude, the scent of your fire caught my attention.”

WC: 191
total: 779

"Basilisk Fatalis"

The figure that loomed in the mouth of the mines was positively enormous, and with the heady aroma of woodsmoke and cooking meat all around, he couldn't tell if it was a fellow wolf or not. Not until it stepped deeper into the tunnel, out of the blinding daylight. Well, that looked like a wolf. Mostly. There were a few oddities beyond the teeth and the bone spurs. It was difficult to tell if the distinctive shape of the muzzle and brow were a trick of the firelight, and the same could be said for the accumulation of muscle in the shoulders and torso. This was a canine, certainly. It- he looked more like a wolf than a bear, or a coyote. He wasn't certain if this was a wolf. The size alone brought this into question. The bruise-dark giant was just that, a giant among wolves. There weren't many he'd encountered in his life who were larger than himself. So what the fuck had they been feeding this monster? The stranger stopped a respectful distance away, minding his manners while the gilded brute settled lazily on his elbow beside the fire. Facing the entrance, lest any other visitors sneak up on him. "Not a problem," he rumbled coolly, the scrutiny in his gaze quickly giving way to a few placid blinks. "I haven't made one in some time, it's certainly not subtle. Am I intruding on your lands? I admit I am a foreigner, and I am not familiar with any holds in the region." the question was posed carefully, the claim to ignorance readily tumbling from his tongue. Ivory tipped tail flicked idly against his hip, and lavender eyes flicked to the cooking carcass to check its progress. (WC: 296 || 1075/1500)

Basilisk’s father looked less like a wolf than he did. With forepaws like a bear, Azure had definitely been striking in his own way. Basilisk was a wolf, just… overly large. Perhaps it was all the snacks that Halo fed him through his adolescence that had done it. The truth about his origins was one he might never discover, especially now that both Azure and Hana had left the Armada for good.

“Not to worry, you're not intruding. The scent of your fire was close enough for me to scent it, but these lands don’t belong to the Armada” He explained amiably, before the Warlord gave a quick smile. “I actually came to check there wasn’t any danger here, though I doubted a fire would spread in these conditions” He explained. “I’m Basilisk of the Armada”


"Basilisk Fatalis"

The gigantic wolf was quick to reassure him that the territory was unoccupied, that he had been drawn in by the scent of the fire drifting to his own territories nearby. Pale gaze drifted to the smoke that permeated the cooking flesh of the boar, tracking its undulating motions along the roof of the cavernous mine entry until its delicate fingerling wisps escaped out into the frigid air beyond. It was quite useful to learn that there was a pack nearby, one that was actively investigating any emerging threats or dangers nearby. A tidbit to be tucked away for later. The titanic figure introduced himself as Basilisk of the Armada, a pair of strong names. The connotations of coiled serpents and military prowess did not go unnoticed, and the gilded brute cast an inquisitive gaze towards the older male. He was certainly a powerful looking wolf, and there was the aroma of many bodies lingering in the undercurrents of his scent as it passed across the short distance between them. With the smoke and the sizzling meat so close, it was difficult to pick out much more than that. "Melchior," he returned in kind, the simple utterance paired with a respectful inclination of his head in greeting. "Would you care to stay and share in my meal, so that your journey was not entirely in vain?" he asked, and while his expression was decidedly neutral, the glint of curiosity in his lavender gaze was unmistakable. There was more than enough to feed them both, though perhaps not to fully satiate the enormous blue-black wolf. A trade of meat for some information surrounding this nearby kingdom of the Armada seemed a worthwhile exchange, granting him some much needed familiarity with the new locale in which he'd found himself.