He couldn’t say he’d been this way before. Gabriel’s ruby eyes placidly scanned his surroundings, the rich greens of the tall trees seemingly endless in their vastness. His form starkly contrasted the softer, muted tones of the woods - his form a milky ivory shroud dressed in an equally alabaster coat, fit for the frigid north. Flecks of gold dotted the fur trim on the sleeves and the collar, complimenting the shimmering golden sword tucked into it on the side of his lithe torso, its solid gold handle and leather sheath barely visible beneath. Eyes of a deep salmon tone flickered about as birds chirped and creatures rustled through the undergrowth, slender ears pricked but barely moving. In fact, his body moved through the edge of the wood like a ghost - his paleness astounding and his silence even more so. His paws barely made a noise, the way he navigated through between the stone-still trees - so quiet one could hear a pin drop and it’d still be decibels louder than his presence. His mystery, his strangeness, his lack of belonging practically surrounded his streamlined frame like a glowing halo. Figuratively, of course. Gabriel’s pale nose only twitched when he reached the pack’s borders - knowing full well not to step over it. He was no fool, but there was something off about him. Many loners on his journey here steered clear of him, refused to make contact. Their eyes casted upon him mainly in disdain or some varying level of discomfort. But ironically enough, he decided to learn more about others, and it seemed fit to join the ranks of a pack to do so. See how they lived in this world where he felt he didn’t belong. Right at the border’s edge, he stood remarkably still. He wondered if someone would even notice - perhaps they would, but for good measure, he mimicked what other wolves did to gain attention - slowly lifting his head and releasing a howl for someone of authority - a howl of melodic, light song. "speech"

Another call at the border, so soon after the pirate's trespass and raid? Azure's fur bristled, his maimed tail flagging as he stepped down from the watchpost and through the gnarled woods. He knew this route almost as well as he knew the caverns beneath the mountain themselves now, having paced them obsessively to keep watch for further pirate harassment. The pale stranger was still present on the correct side of the border upon the Warlord's arrival - one small sign that this might not be a plot - and his scent was empty of any and all pack scent. The latter did nothing to reduce Azure's suspicion, after all, any pirate could simply wash themselves and stay away from the pack land a spell to ensure they came to his borders smelling like a loner.

"You stand on the borders of the Armada." Azure announced, his tone neutral and almost bored though his posture was anything but. The alpha was on alert, prepared to retaliate should this stranger be here with bad intentions. "I am it's Warlord, Azure." Passing the conversation back to the pale man, it was clear on his face that Az expected his introduction to be responded to in kind.

"Speech"

At last, from the dark resches of the woods lumbered a massive wolf, a creature battle-honed and even more battle-scarred. Fur cloaked in charcoal umber and flecked on the back with a soft, dark mint hue, and large spurs adorned his joints and hung in tusks from his maw. The man that stood becore Gabriel was a beast not to be taunted with. Not that the angel-like man had any intention to; in fact, he would meet the tense man with only politeness and respect. It seemed the dire wolf demanded it, and who was he to refuse this mortal? As the wolf - Azure, his name was - introduced himself as the Warlord of the Armada, Gabriel tilted his head ever so slightly in an effort to meet his gaze. This Azure sounded bored, but his body language screamed the opposite. The albino man didn’t grasp all the mortal nuances of communication and social cues, but he knew enough to present himself with the least amount of suspicion he could afford. Like his phantom body and whispy frame, and the hidden angel-wing scars running down his back weren’t already something that isolated him from the definition of normal. ”Azure,” Gabriel said, his voice soft, almost whispery, and calm. ”I am Gabriel.” He genuinely held no tension himself, simply standing politely and without hostility. His salmon-hued gaze scanned the Warlord briefly, half-lidded and seemingly bored himself - but not quite apathetic. Just..calm. If not eerily so. ”I am interested in joining the ranks of your Armada, if I am allowed to do so.” The voice carried like a gentle breeze, almost like something he barely heard whispering in your ear but with no clear source - but the words were so clear all the same. Perhaps this man would not be so convinced he wasn’t who he said he was, but he did his part. Whether he would be allowed to join the pack was up to the dire, in the end. "speech"

The ghost-like man continued, speaking in fittingly soft tones of how he'd intended to join their pack. Gabriel. It was not a wolf Azure had ever heard the name of before.. which might have meant the man was a stranger, and not a pirate. New member acquisition had never been his forte however, that role had always belonged to his father. The same man who was now holed up in the Hallows, deep in grief. The decision would be on Az alone this time.

He dipped his head in a shallow greeting as the name was given, following the movement with a gesture to the side to invite the man over the border. It was a long walk through the woods and certainly safe enough to allow a loner through while he questioned him. "Not many come across our borders by chance." He stated as he walked. "It's both a gift and a curse of the north. Did someone recommend you to us?" As far as Azure was aware, most of the wolves who sought to join had a prior association with his pack or his father to know where to look.

It was possible the pale man had simply stumbled upon the pack borders and decided to plant his roots, an understandable circumstance as the Armada was currently the largest pack in Boreas. If that was the case, the stranger would need at least some information about the pack he sought to join. "Our pack is large, made up primarily of warriors - some of the strongest in the world. We've gone through a few phases but our start was as a private army of sorts for the Empire to the south. After that we shifted into what my father called a school for warriors. While we are neither of those things currently, our primary focus is still centered around that strength. What is it that you offer to us, Gabriel? What brings you to seek a home here?"

"Speech"

Gabriel blinked as the large, bear-like wolf stepped to the side, allowing him entrance into his woods. The shrouded ghost stepped over the border and into the man's domain regardless, wondering if the process of joining a pack was this simple. Mortal wolves always intrigued him, and confused him all the same. A pack was the perfect place, in his opinion, to not only blend into the ranks and find a better purpose for himself - but also to observe and emulate the daily rituals and traditions of others. Maybe then he'd feel less..disconnected from this realm. Such a strange dissociation surrounded him from the moment he found himself in this dimension, feeling his physical body interacting with the earth yet his soul and mind were not quite here, all the same. A pack would help with that, surely. Doing duties and being a regular member, and all that. The bulky man of spurs and fangs - Azure, the great Warlord - mentioned that little came across the Armada's borders by mere chance. A gift and a curse all the same - and he inquired if someone had recommended his pack to the angel-like man next to him. Gabriel paused to consider the words, but realized the answer was already on the tip of his tongue anyways. Feet almost soundless across the forest floor, tufted locks of fur barely brushing past low lying branches, the man softly replied, "I was told by some loners that a pack lay here. But they did not know its name, only that it existed - and if I wished to join a pack, it was the closest one." Vague, but his words held a truth he never could veil. He could not lie - he was honest as they came, words falling from soft lips before he would even consider concocting anything from the imagination. The loners who did decide to spare him a moment of their time had mentioned a rather large, and formidable pack lay claim to several territories in the northern region - they avoided it themselves, but if Gabriel was keen on joining the ranks of one, it was right there. Azure would then go on to explain that the pack was primarily made of warriors - well-trained fighters of tooth and claw, and perhaps even the sword and other weaponry - and though its organization had shifted into that of something more or less neutral, it still remained that the Armada had a reputation of strength and unity. He then asked if Gabriel brought any strengths or skills of his own to the pack. The ghostly man had been raised a warrior - not in a pack, but by what you could consider to be a tight-knit family. Brothers and sisters, a mother and father. A gift placed upon him by his own family before tragedy struck them all was his own cloak and a sword, the same one that the Warlord would no doubt notice as it gently thumped against the slender man's side as they walked. "I bring with me the passion and skill of one who was born and raised to be a warrior, myself. My family prioritized courage and strength, gifting me some basic combat skills and to know my way around a sword before they passed." He said his family passed, as if it was peaceful - but the bloodstained snow on that day, the rivets of crimson that cursed him with the scars hidden by his fur cloak suggested something more violent. Demonic, even. A demon killed his family, slaughtered them. Gabriel had only escaped their fate because of the golden sword that he now carried with him- a symbol of his own tenacity and bravery. Perhaps this past was what tied him to the mortal plane more than he had thought. Death, life, and its endless cycle..he was experiencing it in the eyes of a mortal, too. "I seek a home here because I have none to call my own. I wish to live among others in a community, as I once did with my own family. A place to find purpose and help others, as well." He was selfless, willing to lend assistance where needed. He couldn't see why the dire man had any reason to reject him, not with the two of them walking deeper into the pack-scented forest. "speech"

Azure led the stranger deeper into the woods and heard his story, observant and cautious as he spared glances through the gnarled trees and across the man's ghostly-pale coat. So far he'd noticed no glaring red flags or reasons for distrust, and while the stranger remained polite and respectful Az could think of no reason to reject a warrior who sought a life with them in these mountains. His head nodded in reply as Gabriel mentioned simply hearing of the Armada as the closest option. Normally Azure would hate hearing that their reputation had not preceded them and that the man appeared here by chance, but on the back of the relief that he was not a pirate that feeling was dulled considerably.

As he mentioned the passing of his family, Azure gave a soft and thoughtful hum. "I'm sorry to hear of your family." His ear twitched as a pang of pain started in his chest, his thoughts moving toward his own mother who had recently passed on. "Many of us here have lost someone close to us, but I believe that pain brings wolves closer together." Gabriel had been trained as a warrior before he'd lost his family. He would fit in in the Armada and be able to start to heal - if he hadn't already.

As they neared the Col, Azure paused. He did not intend to bring Gabriel into the mountain without an offer given and accepted, protective of the secrecy the territory provided them. "Seeing as you have roots in combat, I would offer you the beginning position of Warrior. A basic starting rank, until I can assess you properly and see you move up." It was what every wolf was given to start at, a stepping stone to something greater. "Unless you'd rather show me your strength in combat now, and potentially start higher should you impress me." Azure would offer the wolf both options, though should he choose to spar today and do poorly... well, first impressions mattered.

"Speech"

Gabe noticed the touch of softness that lingered in the dire Warlord’s voice as he mentioned his sympathies about his family, giving further explanation that mny wolves in this Armada had suffered their own losses, too. And perhaps this is what helped tie them together - through the pain of losing those they loved, their ties to this mortal plane brought them that much closer into unity. Gabriel couldn’t help but feel a bit detached from the violence and bloodshed he experienced as a pup. He didn’t even have full memories fleshed out from that day - but the flashes remained. The splatters of sprayed blood on white snow. The demon’s red eyes peering through a shapeless obsidian form, sparing his life but only to cut his wings. He was a flightless bird, bound to the earth. He was once an angel destined for a world beyond this one, and now he had fallen - to no fault of his own, and he had to simply make the best of it until perhaps he could get his wings back. Perhaps. Someday. He had hope. The mountainous Col appeared before the duo, a widespread mass of pack territory he had yet to venture into. Formidable in a sense, yet so beautiful, breathtaking even. The man’s ruby eyes blinked, taking in the view. Oh, how he wished he could soar into the skies in that moment, if not just to see the land’s sheer expanse through a bird’s eye view. He couldn’t help but feel the scars on his back ache just a bit at the thought. It hurt to be a mortal, more than he imagined. Azure spoke again, offering him the basic title of warrior - it would allow the man to assess his skills as he gained them, unless the ghostly warrior wished to aim higher in this moment. He glanced up to the mossy-pelted male with a steadiness and calmness that seemed out of place for a man who’d had everything he loved ripped away from him. ”I will take the rank of Warrior, and I will seek to make my skills known and hone them before I consider aiming for anything higher.” He spoke, strictly to the point but not curt. He wasn’t about to challenge for anything higher, at least in this moment - a modest man he was, and he was aware that his basic combat skills were of little match to a battle-scarred warlord. First impressions mattered, even Gabe with his awkward social skills understood this about interactions with others. A whisper carried on the wind, a low hum but yet so clear, he then added with a respectful nod of his head, ”I thank you for your generosity in accepting me into your ranks. I will work hard to maintain it.” "speech"