With the day of Art and Briar’s wedding growing close, Fern been putting her efforts into filling the stores for the guest to come. She doesn’t have to wander too far from the castle today as a group of Takin have stopped to graze in the garden nearby. The gray girl has brought Basilisk with her, the hug pup is visiting with his grandfather and the boy’s his eagerness to learn and (let’s face it) size had led to her reluctantly agreeing to the help. They won’t be too far from the castle and Fern has brought her sword along just in case. Wouldn’t want the kid to get hurt after all. Making sure to stay down wind, Fern leads the way until the herd is within sight, making sure to stay low in the tall grass. Signaling for the huge pup to stop, she hunkers down and looks up (and up) to Basilisk.  

Quietly, so as not the alert the pray, she says, “There are some younger ones in the herd. Now, we can either both chase it down and kill it or you can hide in an ambush spot and I will herd it to you. Uh… the second option might be less energy consuming for you.” Can he even run? How much does this kid eat in a day? Ocean-hued watch the pup as she leaves the plan up to him


"Fern Lark" |  "Puff"

The oversized Fatalis boy was Very Impressed by the sword wielding wolves of this pack. It had been the Warlorss idea of course, that he get to know their close allies and learn from them. His grandfather's prompting had led to him leaving the Hallows with the Knight. The silver woman the clear leader of the group as she led the way through what was likely familiar territory to the other woman. It was all a mystery to Basilisk. He sampled the air constantly, trying to build a map of land and fauna around him. Anything less would disappoint the authorities in his life.

At Ferns signal, Basilisk stopped. Hunkering down beside her, and looking down at the tiny (to him) wolf. Despite being half his size, there was more authority and confidence in the other wolf. She was quick to lay out a plan, pausing to offer… consideration? To Basilisk. He blinked in surprise. “I’m likely too slow to outrun them” he apologised. He was large, and still a little clumsy. Speed isn't his forte. “But I can ambush really well” he continued. His voice a soft whisper.


"Speech"

The huge pup looks at her and Fern feels very small next to him. Still, if he learning how to hunt, the gray girl had wanted to give him options. He will need to know how to look at the prey, plan a course attack, get in position, and execute his plan. With a smile and dip of her head, she agrees with him while saying, “Good plan Basilisk. Never apologize for something you can’t control. You know your limits and that is key when making a plan to hunt. Now, since you are going to be the ambusher, I want you to tell me where you will hide. My job will be to bring the prey to you. Sound good?” She waits for Basilisk to point out where he hides and answer any questions he has.

Once everything is in place, Fern dips her head in understand and moves to get into position. She keeps low, stalking through the tall grass until she is within striking distance. Eyes trail over to where Basilisk is, making sure the huge pup is ready. Eyes snap back to the targets, finding a young takin that will be easy to separate from the herd. Taking a deep breath, Fern springs up from her hiding spot and rushes toward the herd. Chaos erupts as the animals alert each other, calling out and running away from her. In the din of thunder and cries, Fern is able to cut off her chosen takin’s path and begin herding him toward her hunting partner’s hiding spot.

"Fern Lark" |  "Puff"

Basilisk gave her a small grin, finding her a warmer teacher then most. When she asked him a question, he knew it for what it was. He’d done enough lessons to recognise a strategy question. He took on a slightly rigid stance, and looked out across their playing field. The takin looked far sturdier than deer. He would need a bit of force to break the skin, but he could manage that.

The place Fern had taken them too was overgrown. Bushes and long grass, a smattering of trees all offered places to take cover. After a moment, he pointed his nose to a littering of large rocks to the right of the herd. “I could make my way there through the underbrush. Then, when they run, it would create a path for them to escape between. Giving me a chance to take one down.” He explained. Glancing up at her, hiding his inner need for approval.

Things moved pretty quickly after that, as Fern moved into position, and Basilisk slunk over to his chosen spot. He waited behind the rock, and watched as Fern began the hunt. Picking off her chosen prey. As he watched, the smaller takin was herded towards him, and crouched, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

"Speech"

Basilisk smiles at her and Fern returns it brightly, watching the way he surveys the land. When he relays his plan, she looks over to the spot he picks out and gives an affirming nod as she says, “Good choice Basilisk. Now, let’s get some food.” She flashes him a brighter smile as he leaves, her attention quickly shifting back to grazing takin. It doesn’t take long until she is in place and she spies some of the huge pup’s fluff peeking out from his hiding spot.

Eyes move back to the prey and she knows, it is time to run. Heart pounds with excitement as kicks it off, the noise of the hooved animals running matching the rhythm of her heart. The gray girl works to quickly spilt a few off from the larger herd. In the end, three takins are herded toward Basilisk’s ambush spot, two adults and one youth. She drives them toward the gap and the waiting, hidden death.


"Fern Lark" |  "Puff"

Basilisk threw himself forward as the Takin shot by his hiding spot. He timed it badly, and missed the first one. Stumbling out in front of the second. Luckily. This was one of the younger ones. It hesitated, trying to decide if it should run over the sudden wolf in its path, or go around. That hesitation gave Basilisk time to find his feet. He lunged, more of a grapple takedown then anything else. Using his shocking size and weight to pull the creature to the ground.

It screamed and bucked, but if any of the takins turned around, none came to rescue it. With some struggle, Basilisk managed to hold down its hooves, and give himself room to strike at the throat. Digging in his elongated fangs made quick work of the hide. He dug in, and held as the takins death throes grew weaker, until at last it stilled beneath him.


"Speech"