Fox's Glade silver basilisk

through the autumnal glade sandraudiga cut a rather distinct path - so when the unnamed authority from hollow creek's helm came across him then, he automatically presumed it had not been by accident. the hound stopped moving, and cast his gaze suspiciously around them for an ambush. he tried not to imagine that this was some hit put out by indra, before the mistake was given levity when the hooded victress spoke.

his defensive stance melted away, tail hanging loosely at his hocks as he regarded the young wolf cynically. "you would have stayed? after being spoken to like that?" he asked sedately. it was an earnest question, whose answer would speak to the kind of wolf she was, and whether or not this conversation would be worth having at all.

she certainly looked capable enough, but she was young too, and in a position of power among other young wolves. it wasn't something to give up, nor was it the type of environment that bred kind responsiveness to criticism. she seemed like the type that honored strength, and strength in numbers would make the most sense to her at this age. wolves who had not yet lived to see more than one winter tended to have that opinion about survival.

hell, most of them at that age still missed their mothers.