Great sandy pillars held the sandstone balcony above Ignita. The railings draped in silken tapestries and bright floral vines.  The fountain gurgled in the center of the courtyard amidst many voices and people, cajoling, celebrating, laughing, whispering all around her. Despite the sun above Ignita could not feel the hot sandy ground beneath her paws, or the breeze from the fountain mingling into her fur. Instead, her paws felt heavy and cold as she ascended the marble steps... or where they sandstone? They shifted beneath her. A high haughty voice carried over the throng of people, telling her to come forward some more so everyone could see her. The fountain suddenly turned red with wine and the scene twisted into a spiraling haze, she was suddenly alone in her workshop, the sounds of the garden party filtering through the lattice windows. A trio of partygoers stumbled in, their heads swimming in casks of wine. They reached toward her and grabbed her ears, their breaths hot and stank with booze. Suddenly she was being dragged through the courtyard by another partygoer... The decor was blue now instead of pink. The smell of rum and spice and heady perfumes surrounded her as she was lifted up and tossed into the fountain. So cold, cold, cold, cold....

The cold night whispered its eerie winds through the Col. Playing delightedly in the flames of the pyre behind the obelisk of the Armada. Within her den, the Little Slave was curled up against the winter chill that was determined to penetrate her thin desert coat, despite the piles of fur around her. She slept fitfully, the smell of the mead had awakened memories she had no reason to remember.

She gasped as she woke, tears streaming down, biting her face with the chill of the dark. She couldn't take it anymore, the tiny frame of Idalia was not enough to warm her and let her sleep. Blearily half-thinking, not thinking at all, she stumbled out of her den. Her paws led her up the stairs and entered the quarters of the warlord. She paused in the corridor, suddenly not sure which room to retreat into. She vaguely thought of not wanting to get Spider into trouble... The quarters themselves were much warmer than her den overall. Maybe there was a draft in her new den she'd have to investigate later. She pushed her paws forward and she found herself next to the great mountain that was Basilisk. Trying her best not to disturb him she curled up alongside his back, sighing heavily with a shuddering breath she couldn't keep within. As she tried to breathe in another shuddering breath shook her tiny body. She prayed to the sun, to the sky the moon, whoever that she wouldn't wake him and make him angry at her audacity.


"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

The Warlord was lost deep in his dreams. Chasing rabbits through the Tall Grasses of his birth territory. He remembered the horrible hunger of his youth, the endless Growthspurts that had led him to the size he was now. He felt Hazel move around him, and the chill of her nose was enough to pull him partly from his sleep. 


He wrapped a paw around her, Burying her head slightly in the thick fur around his neck to chase out her chill. He breathed in deeply, content to fall back to his dreams when the scent slowly penetrated through his consciousness. It was the dusty desert and woodsmoke. None of the familiar events of his mate. He cracked open an eye and found the browner tones of his slave beneath him. He blinked a few more times, waiting for it to make sense. “Little slave?” He asked after a long moment.

Shivering next to him, this was at least somewhat warmer than her own den, she felt him stir. She tried her best to control her trembling, instead, she was suddenly gathered up in his large strong dark arms and pulled into his embrace. His scent enveloped her in a deep warmth as her pale fur mingled with his. Instantly she was able to relax with his arm wrapped around her. But the gentle bubble of deep sleep still escaped her as she could feel him stir again while he realized who he had brought close to his chest.

He broke the chilly silence with her title on his lips, sending her body trembling with worry again.
"Yes..." She whispered, "I was just... s-sorry. I was so cold... there was this... awful... dream..." Nightmares had not typically plagued her, she never had a place to seek any comfort with them. She eventually had grown out of those nightmares when she kept herself so busy she passed out from work... Now...
She buried her head into his dark thick chest, sniffling back tears, trying her best to shut them away and be as quiet as possible.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

Basilisk was still foggy with sleep. It clung heavily to him, and he knew if he closed his eyes he would be lost to his dreams again. But confusion was keeping him tethered to the here and now. Her reply was so soft he almost missed it. Agreement to her title, and a staggered explanation to her dreams and the chill. He blinked a couple of times and freed a paw to scrub at an eye gritty with sleep. 

He remembered now that Hazel had a patrol, which was why she wasn't beside him. What would she think of the little slave burrowing Into their den? She knew all about terrible nightmares. He wrapped his paw clumsily but gently around her again. “Go to sleep.” He commanded her, placing his head back down on his other paw.

He was allowing her to stay! She sighed as he placed his protective arm over her. They could explain it to Hazel in the morning. She didn't want to upset her either! For now, Ignita's head went limp against his fur, his arm gently resting over her. She had never had this feeling, she had never slept next to someone before.
Her breathing steadied as she finally grew warm. He commanded her to sleep, so she drifted into the abyss again.

Not long after, perhaps an hour, maybe less, she twitched all along her body. Her eyes leaked tears in her sleep as her paws twitched and moved. A soft stuttering whine escaped her lips. Once, twice, then a growl emanated into a low mournful cry with a sob as she went limp again, continuing to cry and whine pitifully. Her paws had clenched into his fur, desperate not to let go even in her sleep.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

He felt himself drifting back to his dreams again. He hadn’t truly woken fully, so the slip into unconsciousness was an easy one to make. He wasn’t sure how long he managed to sleep for, but it felt like no time at all between closing his eyes and waking them. They opened to the motions of twitching and the noises of unrest that Ignita was making. He nudged her, at first gently, and then a little harder. He remembered Hazel’s nightmares after she had killed her father. She had gotten lost in them so easily.

“Ignita, wake up” He commanded her, nudging her again. “Your having a nightmare.”

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

She gasped as she was nudged awake. Confused and disoriented she looked around and found her paws clenched into his dark fur. It was a dream! It was a dream? She looked up at Basilisk, as if she wasn't quite sure he was real at first. 

"I'm sorry." She sniffed, "My dream..." She tried to mentally run after the ephemeral edge of the dream as it ran to escape her consciousness. "They killed you and took me away..." Was all she could muster, and then she immediately buried her face into his fur. Relieved he was still alive and next to her, her arms wrapped around one of his, pressing her little helpless body close to his, tears streaming from her tightly closed eyes. She had never felt so... Truly helpless, so needy, so tiny, and so scared of losing someone. She had never felt so scared of actually losing someone as she did right now. Not since that day of the polar bear skins. She knew it was all so silly, so ridiculous!

"Please... m-Master... never sell me or send me away..." She pleaded.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

Basilisk felt his eyebrow creep slowly upwards at that revelation. “Lets not have me dead that fast” He said dryly, though admittedly, Ignita was one of the few wolves to see him at his most vulnerable. Injured after Kite had attacked him, knocked out by a polar bear. She’d seen that he could get hurt.

He awkwardly patted her as she clutched him and wept a little. He’d never been good at emotions at the best of times. He was furiously protective, and somewhat violent over those he loved. But emotional comfort? Not his strong suit. pat, pat, pat

“Ignita. Your mine.” He warned her, a hint of that possessiveness creeping into his tones. “You’ll not be rid of me so easily.”

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

She groaned half-heartedly at his dry joke, "I'm not finding it funny!" She told him while her face was buried in the darkness.

She sighed as he patted her, somehow soothed by his awkward emotional comfort.

"Ignita, your mine," his possessive tone, his finality, his confidence seeped into her pale flickering candle marked fur. Those words may have struck fear or defiance in her some time ago, but now they soothed an aching lonely abandoned heart.

"I'm yours... you are my Lord, my Liege, my Keeper. I'll not be anyone else's." She replied, her voice gaining confidence, wiping away the tears from her fur with the back of her paw and looking up at him. If he told her to fetch the moon, she'd seriously try.

She paused for a moment, her voice had gained volume and looked at the space where Hazel would be sleeping, "Oh, I didn't realize she wasn't here..." She had been trying her best to be quiet so as not to disturb her, a thought suddenly struck her, here lying in the dark with the Warlord... alone... "Would you ever let Hazel send me away... I hope she doesn't get the wrong idea..." She worried, looking back up at him.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

“I’ll hold you to that.” Basilisk said without humour. He was starting to understand the possessiveness that his grandfather had felt. His relationship with Ignita was an odd one. She belonged to him as a slave did to their master, but he also respected her. He would fight to protect her, and he would not easily share her. As the Warlord, he did not need to. She was his slave, and that ownership was absolute.

Basilisk also glanced towards Hazel’s side of the bed. The space was always lonelier without her here to fill it. “She’s on patrol.” he explained with a sigh. He was also starting to think that sleep would be denied to him tonight. “Hazel knows my loyalty to her is absolute. We’ve been through hell together, Hazel and I. we understand each other.” He explained

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

He'll hold her to her declaration. There was a comfort in being... owned. Cared for, relied on, protected, possessed. She had a place here in the Armada. A nagging thought tapped her on the shoulder and wondered briefly about Spider, but she waved it away in her mind for now. Surely there was no cause for concern or trouble for Spider.

She nodded as he assured her of his loyalty to Hazel. Bas was a rare man, his devotion to his family ran deeper than the rich veins of silver and iron in the mountains around them.
"Good, I don't ever want to come in between you two." Not when her promises revolved around him. She was soothed, for now, the lingering fear of losing him still nagged her behind the ears, but there was nothing to be done with it.

She sighed and laid her head against him again. "I think there's a draft in my den. I'll have to figure it out tomorrow. Wylan is giving me a coat of warm tiger skin. I'll show you the pin I carved for it and I can... the forge... make more..." She drifted slowly off to sleep again. His fur was so warm and the smell of him was soothing.

"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

Basilisk gripped his paw over Iggy’s, the weight of it likely holding her down, though he didn’t apply enough to hurt her. He hadn’t hurt her for a long time now. Somewhere along the way, her loyalty had become absolute. In the sea of unrest he had felt since Kite’s challenge, that had come to mean everything to him.

“If you need to come back into this den for a few days, the room you were in is still there.” He told her as she spoke of a draft in her den. The den he had allowed her to take had also allowed him to keep her close. Eventually, an escape route would be forged between the two of them. But that, as most things did, would take time. He leaned his chin on the top of her head as she rested it against him. “I heard news today… yesterday” How late was it? “That Charlie has gone missing, so we may not be forging anything for a while.”

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

His paw over hers, pressed with a gentle weight. An easy warmth bloomed comfortably within her and she smiled at the reaffirming touch.

Her eyes fluttered open as she drew in a breath. She didn't mind that they would continue, she enjoyed the talk and the planning. He offered her the old room she had taken after her accident for a while. That would be nice, but... so was this. She wondered if even alone in the den she could keep warm.

She perked her ears, in the middle of a yawn, at his news and concern flitted over her golden gaze. She had just met Charlie... He said something about gathering the right materials for her design... Had he not returned?
"Oh no!" She quietly exclaimed, "He said something about gathering the right materials for the pins... I hope he's all right... I've always wondered how it all works. I had to figure out a few metal-working things when I was trying to build that little trebuchet and figure out how to make a rotating pot for the boiling oil they would sometimes dump from the ramparts in those two-leg wars... But I don't think I'll ever be as good as Charlie was..." Granted it would be hot work and she was well-suited for standing against open flames... But her job was organizing and being available for every other task under the sun, and becoming a blacksmith would take all her time... Her mind was immediately trying to find a solution to their missing blacksmith, should they send a search party? Or would they assume he left to join Kite?

"Speech"

She was so small, her paw so frail beneath his own. She was vastly different from Hazel, who lived off a strength he could only imagine. But there was something appealing about Ignita, too. Alone in the dark den with her, night time hovering about them, that little thought he’d been ignoring crept slowly in. If he didn’t have Hazel… but he did, and he would rather cut off his own paw than hurt her.

“We have no other blacksmith” he said, letting her words distract him. He was more awake now, much of the sleepiness brushed away. His paw was still over hers, trapping her to him, though she might not realise it yet. “I’ve started an initial search for Charlie, but I don’t know where he was supposed to go, only that he’s late for checking in. Did he hint where he might be going for resources?” he pulled her paw a little closer, holding it just below his chest. She smelled like woodsmoke, like the fire that always burnt in the centre of the Col.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

Her mind was darting, her eyes dancing over the ceiling, now awake again as well. Could she pull off being a blacksmith? She'd never made a dagger, or sword, or anything of much value besides a hinge and nail and some terrible lumps of crumbling ore... She had some practice with making glass... there was plenty of sand in the desert...

Something had shifted, but it was too subtle for her to catch it swiftly.
"I don't recall where he said he was... going...?" he had pulled her tiny paw closer, just below his chest, pulling herself closer as well. Was it to muffle her talking? He had asked a question... She felt his chest rise and fall as he drew in her scent. Her stomach fluttered suddenly, a rush sent shivers down her spine. She took in his own musk but stopped, the fluttering climbing into her throat. Her paw was trapped within his. Her gaze sought his in the private darkness, questions, questions, questions...


"Ignita"

Basilisk may enter her threads without warning.

She came closer with her paw, placing her scruff under his nose. It would be so easy to grip his teeth into her skin… but why would he want to? That territorial feeling was growing inside of him. Something in what she had said, about wanting to stay his. To stay his. And what better way to claim a wolf? Perhaps he wasn’t truly awake. Perhaps this was an odd dream, where Ignita had snuck her way into his den, into his arms.

He didn’t let go of her paw, holding her to him. What would she do? So far she hadn’t struggled, had gone along meekly, the lamb trusting the wolf. He opened his mouth, breathing in more deeply, his teeth scraped her fur on the end of a yawn. He shuddered softly. He loved Hazel, he loved her more than life itself. What was the heat in his chest? The feelings rushing through him. “Ignita…” He whispered against her ear. Her scent, normal and familiar, was igniting something inside of him. He needed to let her go, push her away. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes, not with Hazel. His claws curled a little tighter around her paw

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

She was tucked under his chin, she couldn't find his gaze to ask her ever seeking insatiable questions, but perhaps he was simply falling asleep... Then why was her heart pounding so?

"I am yours... you are my Lord, my Liege, my Keeper. I'll not be anyone else's..." echoed in her mind like a clarion... He yawned and his teeth raked through her pale flickering fur sending ripples of a brand new sensation cascading under each hair. He loved Hazel... Would this hurt Hazel? She didn't want to come between them...
Her name... He whispered her name into her ear and it sent a shockwave through her of something unbidden and unknown and sheer wanting within her. Should she push him away? Would he... His claws curled tighter over her delicate paw, he didn't want to let go. Her breath was caught in gasps of unknowing. She pulled her face out from beneath his chin and snaked it up around his titanic neck, her lips reaching half up his cheek, trying to reach his ear. Her cheek pressed into one of his massive sabers.

It would be his right to claim her, to take her, but she knew he wouldn't want to if it would hurt Hazel... Would Hazel even care? Some women certainly didn't.

"Do you want... Should I... leave?" She asked quietly, hesitantly, give him an out, give him an escape, a reason.

She would fetch the moon if he bid her...

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

She had crept slowly further and further past his walls each week he knew her. Further than a slave should have gone. But this wall, this was not hers to break. He drew in another slow breath. He hadn't realised how much he enjoyed her scent. But he needed to gain control of himself. His claws still gripped her, despite her offer to leave. 

“Do you feel safe in this den, Little Slave?” He asked her, voice whisper soft against her fur. “Perhaps you shouldn't, perhaps you shouldn't.” He said just as softly. His claws clenched, tightening around her and then loosening. He pulled back, a little further into the dark of the den. “Leave, if you want to.” He didn't want her to go, didn't want to let her. But perhaps it was unwise to let her stay.

Despite her offer, he continued to grip her, the tension starting to pulse, the contact nearly hurting her. His feverish whispers crawled over her white fur, making her skin thrill where her fur met his deep blacks and startling otherworldly blues.

He tightened again, daring to test the limits of her tiny body in his mighty grip, he didn't want to let her go, she didn't want him to. Then suddenly she was released. The warmth of his body receded into the inky darkness. She felt her paws grasping at his fur as he pulled away, confused tears threatened to cloud her vision and judgment. If he pulled away it was because he knew it would hurt Hazel. She didn't want to come between them, the last thing she wanted was to give them a reason to hate her.

"I don't... want to hurt either of you..." She choked.

With a shuddering breath, she pushed herself away. This was wise, this was best, yes... She stumbled as the feeling in her paws had not quite come back yet. He told her the guest room would be open.

"Speech"

He had taken her freedom with the intention that she wouldn't be a slave forever. But looking at her now, he saw that letting her go would give her the freedom to leave. To choose, to take another. He wasn't sure if he could let her have that freedom. “You might come to regret what I've taken from you.” He said as she pushed herself away. His paws twitched with an urge to chase her, his lust was up. For blood, for her. He knew the darker urges came from his father, who'd made many questionable choices in his life.


Perhaps he understood his father a little more just than. To do what he wanted, and ignore the cost. He wanted her in a way he hadn't until before tonight. She'd woken something inside of him, and he wasn't sure it would leave him easily.he watched her with a predators eye to see if she'd take the full path to the door of his den.