His father had always called him a reckless child. His mother hd argued that he was daring. Dream had come to realize he was a combination of both, because while it was true that he did a lot of things that others considered stupid or risky, more often than not he'd already weighed the outcomes in his mind and done the math. He was proud to say that things usuaally worked out the way they were supposed to, but he'd be a liar if he said every one of his plans had gone off without a hitch before. Hell, more than a few of the scars on his body had been earned doing some crazy shit- but it never seemed to phase him.

This, however, had to be among the stupider things he'd ever done. Trying to join a pack wasn't an easy thing. If they were at capacity, in a foul mood, or just weren't the sort to take in strays then there was a very good chance he'd find himself on the losing end of a mobbing, and call him crazy but he'd always sort of valued his life. It's why he'd just stuck to himself for all this time even though the solitude was emotionally killing him. Sure, he was physically built to strive even on his own, and his current condition was a testament to that; maxed out in his height for a normal wolf, his body was carved from taut muscle and well-fed, decorated in the scars of a survivor. His cleaming green eyes held a sharp intelligence about them despite attractive features that were usually accented by a goofy, toothy grin, and his sandy blonde fur was clean and healthy, if not a bit ruffled from his hunting trip earlier- well away from the Armadas territory, of course. He had no intention of being accused of somthing like stealing prey, and the evidence of his meal had been cleaned from his lips and paws long ago. No, physically there was no dispute that he was doing just fine for himself even at such a young age, but it wasn't his body that had convinced him to finally come here.

No, as pathetic as it sounded, Dream was tired of constantly being alone.

At his very core there was no greater yearning in him than for that of comradery- to be able to rough-house, train, and joke with his peers was as much a basic need for the wolf as eating or drinking at this point, and the longer he denied himself the more frustrted and aggressive he could feel himself becoming. At this rate, what was even the point of being alive? It was a thought that chased him like a pair of snapping jaws, and whenever they managed to dig in the green eyed male would find himself doing stupid shit, like wandering a bit too close to the borders of the packlands.

Like today.

A sea of green spilled out before him, an emerald grassland he had seen from a distance on multiple occasions but had never dared to get so close to. Today though, the scentmarks at the border sung to him in a way they usually didn't. Usually the stench of pack was enough to earn a wide berth from the young wolf, but this time it only mde that envy in him worse, stoking the embers into a full out flame. How nice it must be to have a pack, to have people to trust and work with, to fight along side. Words like 'brotherhood' and 'loyalty' and 'purpose' taunted him like cruel children, and before he knew what he was doing, Dream tipped his head back and let out a long, low howl.

OOC- sorry about the lame starter, I have to go do some stuff but really wnted to get this up!!!

The Armada Warlord was skinning his latest catch by the near-constantly burning fire pit that sat in the center of the Tall Grass Plains. Finishing the last touches with his wicked feline-like claws when the call came for him at the border. He tilted his head, listening for a moment, before pulling himself to his paws with a grunt. He threw the hide over the tanning rack, and hung the meat to the side. He could finish dealing with them later.

Moving away from the warm fire, he fell into a ground-eating lope that brought him to the border, and the stranger that called to him from it. The Dire wolf looked to the sandy stranger, and inclined his head. “Welcome to the Armada pack lands - what brings you to my borders?” Straightforward and to the point. Subtle, the Warlord was not.

"Speech"

Dream had never met a a pack wolf before. Born a loner and living as a loner, he realy only encountered his own kind, and so he hadn't exactly known what to expect when he let loose that call. A small part of him- probably the part that knew this was stupid- urged him to leave before whoever was coming had a chance to find him, but that little voice was drown out almost just as quickly by the rush that flooded his veins as the realization settled into him. This was it. Finally, he'd given himself at least a chance of getting a taste of what he was after, and it felt fucking good. And so he held his ground and waited, and boy, was the wait short.

Through the tall grass a hulking figure appeared, body cast black in inky fur slashed through with white. Dream had seen wolves that were bigger than him or that held odd fur patterns- even the odd mutation- but it still felt strange to see, especially when he knew there was nothing particularly special about him at first glance. You can fight. he reminded himself, and your fucking [i]smarttoo. Maybe that was his pride kicking in, but he knew he wasn't wrong. He wasn't some weak idiot that couldn't contribute or get shit done.

"Welcome to the Armada packlands- what brings you to my border?" the words are surprisingly civil, something he appreciates given how territorial he knows some of the groups can be. And so he responds in kind, his words equally as straight to the point and lacking any aggression. "I came to join. I can fight, and I can follow orders. My name's Dream, by the way."

Better to just get it out there, right?

He appreciated the wolf's candor. No beating around the bush. He listed his attributes and his desire, and the Warlord took a step closer, looking over the sandy wolf for a moment. He was interested, but he didn’t let it show immediately. “Alright, Dream. What else can you do, can you hunt?” Surveying the wolf had told him he wasn’t starving, and the scent about him held no other wolves. It seemed likely the wolf would be giving an answer Sirius liked. The Armada badly needed hunters, with Winter on the way and the stores still diminished from the flooding. He needed wolves, but they needed to be able to pull their weight.

“I’m Sirius Fatalis, by the way.” He wiped the blood from his kill on the grass, before holding a giant paw out towards the smaller wolf. Leaning a little into the other wolf’s space. He wanted to gain some insight into what this wolf was made of.

"Speech"

”What else can you do? Can you hunt?”

”I can.” he nods, feeling his confidence rise just a little at being able to answer the other males questions in what he hopes are a positive way. ”I’ve lived on my own since I was young, so I’m no stranger to putting in work.” he explained, figuring that the ebony wolf would understand. Every den carved into the dirt, every kill dragged down, every enemy fought off, had all been done by his hand alone. It was a rough but rewarding life, it just wasn’t one he could stand to live on his own anymore. ”That goes for fishing, too. There were a lot of lakes where I grew up, and I was never water-shy.” he added, lips breaking into a small grin at the memories. Yeah, he loved the water.

”Anything I don’t know, I’m willing to learn. I’m a pretty quick learner for the most part.” A statement that could very easily be mistaken for arrogance if you didn’t know him well. Dream had a bad habit of stating facts rather bluntly at times, and occasionally those facts were about himself. Nobody had taught him not to cast a shadow when you fished, or that you can snatch a bird clean out of the air if you angle your jump right. Nobody taught him that you could sense the rain coming on the wind long before the clouds showed any sign of it, or that the eyes, nose, and ankle tendons were all sweet spots to go for if you wanted to cripple your opponent in battle. Those were things he had to find out for himself, lessons that were hard learned after going hungry or being nearly blinded in a fight, hours of fish avoiding him or birds dodging his snapping teeth as he tried to charge them on the ground.

”Nice to meet you, Sirius.”

The Warlord grinned at that, nodding his head in approval. “Part of our territory is along the beach, so there's plenty of places to fish” he said in explanation to his grin. He gave it a few more moments, even though he already knew his answer. He inclined his head towards Dream. “Welcome to the Armada, Dream. Let's give you the tour.”

He stepped forward, brushing his coat against Dream, and leaving his scent along the other wolf. Best to mark him early, so no one made any mistakes. That done, he shook out his coat and trotted forward onto Armada lands. “These plains are our Main Territory, best place for dens, too” he explained as he walked. Leading the other wolf towards the pack center.

"Speech"

And just like that, his entire life changed. It seemed, ironically enough, like a dream. To think he'd spent all this time avoiding the packs because he didn't want to find himself outnumbered and in a bad spot, when in reality he could have just been a part of them all along. Well, maybe not. Back then he hadn't been worth much, just a crazy kid with a lot to figure out. Maybe being alone was what made him worthy of a pack in the first place. Whatever. He wasn't about to dwell on it. The toothy grin that slipped onto his lips at the words "Welcome to the Armada" was probably more than enough to relay his elation, but he voice it anyways. "Thanks. This loner thing just isn't for me." he admitted with a chuckle, tensing when Sirius drew near, but not withdrawing. Very rarely did he get so close to other wolves, and it went against most of his instincts to let a giant stranger get so close to him, but he resisted the urge to shift away. Instead he was reward with the packs scent, and when the other drew away to lead him off into the field, he didn't hesitte in following after them.

"Do we make our own dens, or does everyone have a speciffic place?" he asked, not quite sure how it worked. Chances are he'd have more questions for Sirius then the blonde wanted to admit, but the cold truth of the matter was that he just didn't know how this whole pack things worked- not beyond the basics, at least. Still, he intended to make good on his word to learn quickly, and whatever the black and white dire wolf told him today he wasn't likely to forget it any time soon.

"Speech"



The Warlord huffed a soft laugh at that. He understood all too well, he didn’t do well alone. He surrounded himself with those he called his for a reason. Now, for better or worse, Dream was one of those wolves. Mine. He wondered if his new pack wolf knew what he was getting himself into.

Dream, trying to figure out how the Armada worked, asked a good question. The Warlord didn’t slow his gait as he looked over his shoulder and responded. “There are a few pre-dug dens near the central camp. If none of those are to your liking, I can help you dig your own. Alternatively, if you prefer company, wolves like my son Mortis prefer a dog-pile type bedding situation.”

They reached the heart of the Plains then, and the Warlord turned his gaze to the obelisk. The stone pillar that stood before the pack's main camp. “here you will find the written laws of the pack. You’ll do best to make yourself familiar with them” He warned, giving the other wolf a chance to digest them.


"Speech"

"A dogpile doesn't sound half bad to be honest." he admitted, making a mental note to find this Mortis guy later on. After all, it be weird to just go sleep in a random den with a bunch of wolves he didn't even know- not that it would necessarily stop him either.

The obelisk he was directed to was something new for Dream, but he let his green eyes scan over the words all the same. There was nothing he could find that was worth objecting to, and if he was honest it actually didn't sound half bad. He'd landed himself in a group that seemed to mesh with him well enough, and he found he was willing to tangle himself farther into this web he'd found himself in.

"I'll remember them." he promised with a nod, having no intention of ruining the oppurtunity before him. In a way, Sirius was just as lucky as Dream was. The blonde was so starved for what this pack could offer him that at this point there were only a few things he wouldn't do to prove he belonged here. And in time, the more he attatched himself to this place, those lines would probably blur. And right now, Dream was okay with that. As long as he got what he needed out of it as well.

"Is there anything specific I should know about this place and how you guys do things? Like I said, I've been on my own for the most part and I don't want any... misunderstandings screwing things up for me. If your pack has any special customs or beliefs or things that are off limits, it'd be good to know."

Laws were one thing. Written out for him plain as day he could digest and remember them easily enough. But laws weren't always the only thing to consider, and he didn't want to go stepping on anyones toes accidentally- no, if he did that you could bet your ass there'd be a good reason for it.

"Speech"



The Warlord nodded, that was easy enough. If he sought out Mortis, his son would ensure he was kitted out with bedding and anything else he needed. He stood to the side for a moment as his new wolf’s eyes scanned over the obelisk. After a moment, Dream seemed to have memorised them, and promised to remember. “Very good,” Sirius said, and started forward, pausing when Dream asked another. “Our closest allies are the Ashen pack. Their borders are snuggled up against our Western borders. You might find the occasional Ashen wolf crossing over onto our land, and vice versa. Such occurrences are welcome” If poor Dream tried to prove himself by chasing off an Ashen ‘intruder’ then that would be a disaster.

“There are no specific beliefs or religion Armada follows as a whole. You are welcome to keep any you might follow, so long as it does not mesh negatively with the pack.” he considered for a few moments longer, before shaking his head. “That’s about the most of it, and if you're uncertain of anything I'm sure any Armada wolf will point you right.’ he said, continuing a few paces forward. Here was the central firepit, along with the skin and meat he had sung over a rack before answering the call. He stepped to the right of that and lifted open a cellar door. “Here are our stores, new drainage has been dug recently, but remember to always close it behind you. The last thing we need is snow or rain getting in.” they’d already had that happen once. Once was enough. “Those dens there” he said, pointing to a collection near the firepit. “Are empty, if you wish to rest in one tonight before figuring out what you’d like more permanently.”


"Speech"

At the mention of an allying pack, Dream realized there'd be a bit more to learn than he first expected. That was okay though, he didn't mind. "The Ashen. I'll have to visit the western border and familiarize myself with their packscent then." he noted, knowing it would do him no good to end up in a tussle with an ally. He wondered vaguely what type of wolves they were. Would there be any that were worth getting to know beyond surface formalities, or if they would end up rubbing him the wrong with with whatever lifestyle it was they chose to pursue. Oh well. It didn't really matter in the end, so long as he did as he was told.

Dream didn't really say anything as Sirius explained how their belief system worked, simply nodding to show he understood. To be honest the green-eyed wolf didn't have any hard set beliefs himself. He was often one to joke that the Gods hated him, or that Lady Luck was on his side, but didn't know if it was actually true or not. If so -cool- but if not, it's not like that changed anything for him. And other people could believe what they wanted, too. It had never bothered him before, and likely wouldn't in the future.

As Sirius led him around the camp, Dream took a moment to simply gaze at his surroundings and take it in. The large clearing, the blazing fire, the dens dug in clusters so that wolves could room closely. It felt too soon, too foriegn, to call this place 'home' yet, but he was eager for when that day would finally come. Snapping out of his thought, he came to a halt beside the larger black wolf as he lifted open a door in the ground. The stores, huh? "What do you like to keep it stocked with?" he asked, figuring it would be useful information for later, since resource gathering was something he'd grown quite good at.

When the dens he'd spotted earlier were pointed out and offered up, his tail gave a lazy wag of grattitude behind him. "Thanks, I'll definitely do that."

"Speech"



“Good plan” The Warlord agreed with an approving nod. “The Hollows are another ally of ours - while not as close as Ashen, its Heir is my Godson, so plenty of friendship to go around” he explained. It hadn’t been his intention to put any thought into allies or enemies when his pack had first started, but over time the Armada had earned themselves both.

With their attention turned to the deep cellar, the Warlord let the door slam shut again. “We are still a little low on meat - an unfortunate leak damaged much of our supplies. Whatever you can catch is fine, we often dry and preserve them to extend their life” He explained, leading Dream now away from the pack’s heart.

“This will lead us to the beach - The territory isn’t as prime for dens or prey, so we instead use it as our training grounds” He explained, his path leading them towards the barracks.


"Speech"

The Hollows was another pack he would have to make an effort to familiarize himself with less things end in a fiasco, but he'd get it done. He also took note of the fact that they needed more food, knowing that bringing in a kill would help solidify his place here. Gods, he'd barely been here ten minutes and he was already compiling a list taller than himself in things he wanted to do, his ambition in full swing. Nothing new there, though.

Their tour continued, leading out of the camps heart and down a trail that led to the beach. "Training grounds, huh? Sounds like my kind of scene." he replied, green eyes scanning over the stretch of coastline as that sharp mind of his went to work. The place really did have a lot to offer; diving to increase lung capacity, swimming against currents to strengthen muscles, pleanty of places to dig and strengthen the forelegs and shoulders, and even just running on the sand itself, which would slip beneath the paws and force extra exertion from the body would serve as a good workout.

Not to mention all the places for sparring.

"Does our pack have any enemies, Sirius?" he asked, suddenly curious. He knew that any stranger waltzing in was to be considered a tresspasser, but the blonde male was more interested in the other packs. Just like the pack had its friends in the Hallow and the Ashen, they might also have enemies that were worth knowing about.

“That’s what I like to hear” Sirius huffed in amusement, as the grass grew patchy beneath their paws. Hopping down a sandy bank the Warlord let his paws sink into the familiar loose landing of his second territory. He made a beeline for the barracks, which stood as the central point for the training grounds. Dotted on each side of the barracks were the arenas, outlined by ropes staked to the ground.

In front of the barracks stood a row of training dummies. “You’ll find an assortment of fighting accessories you can familiarise yourself with in the barracks, along with replacement stuffings for the dummies, and so forth.” He explained. “That's the main points of the Armada - you’ll find mine and my wifes den down thataway” he raised a paw and pointed to a spot in the Armada near the Ashen border. “Our lead healer, Mojito, lives that way.” He pointed in another direction. “I’ll sure you’ll stumble across the rest of the lot over time.”

"Speech"

He absorbed the information that Sirius offered up to willingly, intruiged to find that there were so many more resources available to him now. To be honest, he didn't know what else to say at this point. As his new Alpha showed him new thing after new thing it seemed like he found himself wanting to repeat the same things, like 'so cool', or 'look good'. It was true though. From the impressively burning fire in the center of camp, to the underground storeroom and the beach now laid out before him, everything he saw was just so much better than what he was used to, a total upgrade in every way.

He took not of the direction that Sirius said his own den was, along with that of the Healers- something he perked up at little. "I'll remember that, thanks." Chances are he'd be visiting the medic quite a bit with the way he was, always pushing his limits and diving headfirst into the dirty work. It wasn't as if he were stupid or reckless enough to get himself seriously injured, but he had a habbit of wearing cuts and bruises like medals alongside the scars on his body, and he wasn't afraid to get a little banged up.
"Speech"