She left him to it, heading back to the infirmary before she was missed. At least she had had a chance to see him. He seemed well from his adventures, if tired. She made her way to the little room Oleander had sectioned off with shelves and slept. Ollie let her sleep, so she must not have been needed for any tasks.

When she got up, Oleander was already moving around in the infirmary, so there was no chance to slip out. “Wilders back, and he promised me a training session today…” She trailed off, asking but not at the same time. Once Oleander gave her the all clear she trotted out of infirmary, free from her duties for the day. She returned to Wilders den and poked her head through the door. “You up yet?”

Sleep had never felt so good. Being back home in his den was absolutely glorious. The comfort and warmth of his bed was a luxury he had missed while out on his scouting missions. Unwilling to rise or escape from confusing dreams, Wilder slept almost soundly until Vesper's spoke out from the entrance of his den. It took him a moment, his eyelids fluttering open to groggily peer around the shadows until he saw her icy blue gaze staring at him.

"'m now," he rumbles, shifting on his bed before coming to stand and giving his legs a good stretch. Walking with slow, long strides, he squints against the red sun's light as he comes up to Vesper. "Got anythin' in mind fer today that ya wanna learn?" Wilder asked as he took a few more steps past her, finishing stretching out his body so that the tightness in his muscles would dissipate.

It seemed she had woken him. She didn't regret that, just waited impatiently at the door for him to rise and stretch. It wasn't till he was walking past her that she turned and fell into step beside him. “Well.” She said, a little hesitantly. She knew she was going to get judged for this one. “What does one actually have to do to earn their freedom here? I've mostly glazed over when Master Oleanders talked about it.” She admitted a little sheepishly. 


She was too locked in her ways and her beliefs, she's struggled to hear about this path of ‘hope’ when all she felt for it was derision. She knew Oleander and Wilder had been pushing her to fight. Was that what it required? “Will I be fighting the Warlord for my freedom?”

Wilder stops in his tracks at the sheepish tone of Vesper. He turns to look over his shoulder at her, truly unsurprised that she had glazed over that information. Raising a brow and allowing his lips to flatten into an unimpressed look, he nods slowly at her to confirm her suspicions.

In the next breath, he turns back and starts to head to one of the communal areas where lessons were held. "You must challenge the Warlord an' win, but that feat is rather difficult," Wilder states as he stops and turns to face Vesper in the middle of the dirt arena. Looking her over, he wonders if she even has what it takes to defeat him. The man was kitted out from tooth to nail and even if Wilder was one of the larger wolves of the Armada, the Warlord was even larger. Vesper may have spirit and fire, but skills she lacked.

"If that is not feasible, I sugges' askin' Oleander what else ya can do," Wilder muses thoughtfully. "I don' believe Ignita got her freedom through fightin', but then again she's the Lady of the Armada now so I kinda got the feelin' they didn't come to that agreement in the traditional sense," his lips lift in a smirk, chuckling to himself before turning serious once more. "Ya gotta prove to 'im yer worth more than slave so if fightin' ain't yet thing, then what is it?" He questions, tilting his head curiously.

"Wilder & Vesper"

She blanched a little at the confirmation. She really had to fight - no, defeat - the Warlord? How was that fair? To her that just confirmed that it was all a shame, but Wilder didn't seem ready to give up yet. She wasn't holding onto hope for this, she wasn't doing it for her. She was doing it for him. Doing something for the sake of someone else was a new concept to her. If nothing else, she would get to spend time with Wilder and learn new things.

And when he did push her to challenge the Warlord, perhaps he wouldn't cripple her too badly for her audacity.


She pulled a face at Wilder. “Well I'm certainly not about to woo him, he seems like an aggressive bastard.” Was she supposed to talk badly about the Warlord to his wolves? Probably not. Oh well. 


“Can't someone else fight him?” She whined, complaining for the sake of complaining. She knew nothing got handed to you. What was she good at? She gave him a perfectly straight face. “Diplomacy. I'm a people person.”

Wilder blanched. His face completely devoid of emotion aside from complete disbelief. A wolve's wolf? Had she gone mental? His lips pull inward between his teeth, chest rumbling as he fought back a laugh. Tiny noises sputter out between his lips as he took a step backward, curling his chin toward his chest. She really couldn't believe what she had just said, could she?

It takes a minute before Wilder can fight back the fit of laughter that makes his whole body tremble. Heaving in a deep breath and exhale it slowly, he forces himself to look up at Vesper seriously. "You got about as much diplomacy in ya as I do bein' a healer," which was safe to none. An insult on both their parts, but still true all the same.

"I'm a hunter, Vesper, so coun' me outta fightin' that big guy," he turns to cheese at her, still trying his best to take the situation seriously. Maybe she did want to be a Diplomat. If she did, she had a lot to work on. "Anythin' else yer good at? Or ya really wanna be a Diplomat? Cause if so, we got a looooonnng road ahead of us," Wilder raises a brow, hoping she doesn't smack him upside the head for being a bit of a jerk.

A soft snort escaped her at his reaction, which was even better than she was hoping for. “Are you kidding? I hate people.” Well, most of them. She was starting to realise there were exceptions to the rule. In fact, her expression turned almost fond as she looked at Wilders silly expression, before she shook her head, and let out a frustrated sigh. “I can clean, I'm starting to get some passable ideas on healing, and I'm really good at sex. I have no idea how to turn any of that into passable Armads skills.” She grumbled, letting her frustration leak through. 


She didn't really expect him to fight for her, but a hint of disappointment creeped into her eyes regardless. That would be too easy. “Maybe I should talk to Oleander like you suggested and see if he has any ideas.” And actually listen to him for once.

His brows raise once more, both this time, as she lists what she's good at. Cleaning, minimal healing, and sex. How did she even know she was good at sex? What was this weird feeling gripping his chest and tightening his stomach? Definitely not that green monster he denied ever having. No, let's not address that right now.

Instead, Wilder snorts out a laugh. "Well, as far as I know, healing, hunting, navigating, fighting, and diplomacy are like the five main paths ya coul' take. If ya think ya'd like healin', then Oleander shoul' be the one teachin' ya, not me," he grimaces at the idea. Sure, he knows basic field medicine. It's necessary to know somethings, but the important stuff? And all those plants? He didn't have a clue.

"If it came down to it, Oleander's prolly yer best bet if I'm bein' honest. He has more skills in fightin' an' healin'. I'm just a scout an' hunter, I do my best," Wilder shrugs, his lips beginning to turn down into a frown. Stepping closer to Vesper, he sighs, feeling disappointed in himself. "We can still do some trainin' if ya like. I can teach the basics if you wanna learn to fight," he offers gently, trying to help at least a little bit.

So far, this didn't seem to be going as well as she thought it might for all his pushing yesterday. Once it was laid out before them, It was pretty obvious her current learning was pathetic. Did she want to learn healing? For that matter, did what she want actually account for anything? She should pick a path she thought she might achieve and work towards it, regardless if she wanted it or not. That was probably the best path forward.


Wilders expression turned and he frowned. Her stomach twisted, an odd feeling in her gut. He was disappointed in her, wasn't he? He was beginning to realise how helpless this was. “Perhaps… you could show me the things you're good at? Maybe I just need a bigger sample size.” She couldn't know if she was good at something if she'd never tried it. “I don't know how to hunt.” Can't have the slaves self sufficient after all.

There was something! “Ya got good ideas sometimes, ya know?” Wilder teased with a grin before glancing around. Basic hunting skills were good to have, but she didn’t necessarily need them if she didn’t plan on traveling around Boreas. The Armada had plenty of hunters to keep the pack stores full. Could he relate it to fighting though?

“Huntin’ an’ fightin’ are more similar than wolves give credit,” Wilder begins, raising his head a bit as he begins to circle Vesper slowly. “They both require patience from the one doin’ the huntin’ or fightin’,” he watches her with his brilliant red eyes as if she were the prey. Head tilted, nose up, muscles relaxed as his large paws displaced his weight easily.

“Ya gotta know when an’ when not to strike,” Wilder continues, never allowing his gaze to leave her. “If ya strike too soon, ya could scare off your prey or if you strike too late, you’ll leave too big of an openin’ for yer opponent to strike first,” he pauses, giving her a moment to process. “Tell me, when would be a good moment to strike me?”

Wilder seemed to latch onto the thought, and began a lecture. Oh goodie. But she knew it wasn’t Wilder’s fault that she wasn’t very academic. She supposed she shouldn’t fake a huge yawn right in the middle of his speech, should she? In fact, she actually had to pay attention to keep her promise. She sighed internally, trying to keep up with what the tall wolf was saying. Putting on her best behaviour, because she knew that he was actually trying to help her.

It was, however, a little distracting, watching him begin to stalk her. “When they're distracted?” The easily distracted slave suggested in response to his question.


"Vesper"