Basilisk Camping! [Basilisk Fang]

The Spooky Forest was was most likely eerie to most others, but to many serpents it was but a mere change of scenery to their usual quarters. Hardly any ventured deeper than what they could of the Spooky Forest, despite it's normally warm winds and welcoming rustles of the trees. But tonight the airs with thin and winds were chilly as the aching feet of the Basilisk Fang guild trekked with feather-like hearts making each step both tedious and weightless. The weather was callous and bitter, like this bunch had brought Mt. Hakoben snows with them along their journey.

The Fortress had been obliterated, and the bright, explosive secrets that were buried within remain hidden and untouched. Now the serpents wandered for what seemed like days for the quiet raven-haired man, all the while comfortable and able-bodied. He had thought many times of what would become of the weapons hidden within Mt. Hakobe, considering to return to these items when times were better and their guild's security had been assured.

Ahote would be sitting on the thick, exposed root of a rather seasoned oak during their venture, idly snuggling up into his black trench coat with a fixed gaze of the ink skies pouring through the cracks in the leaves. The chilliness was no stranger to him and comforted him in this strange and dark land, but it was not this alone that soothed him. Not so far by were his colleagues, which he could only assume were returning to their usual dealings with one another: chatting, exploring, and drinking whatever alcohol they've salvaged. But he could not tell for sure if that were the case since many of their natural odors were the yeasty or pleasant aroma of alcohol.

After moments of staring over at their general space, his lips would part and tongue call out to them with a mild urgency. His solemnity ringed soundlessly with every breath, and he remained still against the tree trunk, "Why don't we get moving soon? Something will surely eat us if we keep taking breaks like this." he'd complain more than insisting with an acute stress swelling in his throat.

The situation was overall messy.

She was familiar with being center of the disaster, this time however, Seven had strayed far from the path that kept her close to duty. Lines were imposed; crossed over the barrier they had set in place to prevent any mishaps. Any faults in the bonds that she had so absurdly managed to create in this dark time were dwindling in her stubborn resolve.

Ignoring Ahote was not within her nature. The fate of misfortune had brought the pair together— now it was tearing them apart. In the merciless torrent of their journey from the fallen fortress, departure had been done in silence. Neither was willing to say a word about the clash, and when she thought of it, her cheek stung in reminder. The memory was what kept the pain ever-so-present— at the same time it was also quite bitter.

The familiarity of the voice brought her back into the distasteful present. Red cast itself across the measly grouping, keeping herself pressed against the furthest rise of a lush tree. Moments had been done in rest and then motion. Not that she was strained into exhaust by the adventure through the chilling bite of the mountains— now being the ease of the forest. She'd await till everyone was ready to move once again.

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