Sirius Fatalis The Warlord found Dread by one of the lean-to’s along the beach. His scent led the Warlord along as he moved down the black beach. The summer heat lingered in the dark coloured shore, despite the lateness of the afternoon. The Northern territories were certainly known for their chill - but there was plenty of heat around, for those that knew where to look. “Dread?” He called out softly, sticking his nose into the fishing hut where his son’s scent lingered. The Warlord intended to make his rounds to all of his children. Now that they had reached the age of one, it was time for them to focus on their future. It was time to start make decisions. “there you are” He said with a smile as his eyes settled on the boy. "Speech"

Had he caused a bit of a scene at their birthday party? Yeah. Showing up with a pirate on his arm maybe hadn’t been Dread’s finest moment. Pirates were supposed to be attack on sight, but that seemed to be his brother's ruling. Thankfully, Azure was scarcely present these days. They hadn't caused that many problems at the birthday party, and the day had passed without incident. No, the only real incidents had to do with Dread being at war with his own head.

These days, Dread had been keeping well enough busy. Halo had made some mention of some of the sheds looking cluttered, and having a hard time finding things within them. The boy had taken that as something of a hint, and taken to sorting each one out. Dragging everything out, making piles of things to be repaired and things to be thrown out, cleaning the shed, and putting everything back. Over and over again, but something about the repetitive nature of the task was calming. This one of the fishing sheds was nearly done, and the yearling was just putting things away when he heard his father's voice.

"In here," he called back to the Warlord. He was in the middle of carefully winding some of the spare cordage for the fishing nets, not wanting to set it down where he was. "How does it look?" Dread set the bundle of cord down in its rightful place, stepping back to look around the shed.

"Dread Fatalis"

Sirius Fatalis He looked about at the shed, realising how well organised it was from the last time he had been here. He gave it an approving nod, realising what his son had set himself to. “It’s looking great, looks like you’ve got a good system worked out for organising these sheds. Would it throw you off course if your old man lent a hand?” He said, not wanting to put Dread off his good work. They could talk rank and organise at the same time. “I actually came to have a chat about ranks. Now that you’ve passed your first year, it's time to decide where you want to go in the pack” he said. He was curious to hear where Dread’s ambitions lay. "Speech"

Dad seemed to approve of the way that he'd been going about the sheds. Dread was happy with that-- if Sirius hadn't been, it would have been a lot to do over. Then again, the Warlord was a pretty reasonable man, and there was no reason he shouldn't... anyway. Dread would break the anxious train of thought as he turned his attention to his father. He was offering to help. "Thanks. I'd appreciate it, actually. " The boy's tone was even, relaxed as he spoke.

"Is it okay to keep bait down here, actually? I have a bucket of stuff from Halo that I brought down, but I didn't really know where to put it." Grateful that Sirius had come down, and could answer his questions. "There's also some stuff outside still, but some of it doesn't actually belong in here." There was also the question of who was just throwing things into the sheds at random, but whatever. Dread had always liked order, and having things tidy.

Dad had come to talk about ranks. Dread breathed and audible sigh of relief, relaxing a bit. So he wasn't here to reprimand him about the whole Deluge thing. Thankfully. He'd come to talk about something arguably more serious. It was true, they were yearlings now. They needed to think about where they'd go from here within the Armada. Sure, he'd put some thought into it, but thinking about the future was always so daunting. That, and it was still pretty recent that he'd stepped away from healing. Dread was certain that he'd disappointed Halo, and that still stung. He'd try not to dwell on that. Moving to begin bundling more cordage for the nets, taking a moment to phrase his response carefully, Dread finally spoke. "I want to do more with the relations between us and other packs. Politics and stuff." The yearling doesn't quite know how to phrase that, but it's good enough for now.
"Dread Fatalis"

Sirius Fatalis The Warlord considered it for a moment, then nodded. “So long as you store it under something heavy. There are birds around that would be more than happy to steal it” He explained. As Dread mentioned things outside still to be sorted, the Warlord turned his attention to it. Pulling out some things and organising it into piles of what belonged, and what didn’t. “Politics?” The Warlord said. “That would be Diplomacy then.” That was an easy thing to organise. “Very well, take a warrior that knows the way with you and head down to Ethne. We have a trade arrangement in place and we need to deliver a knife to them. Greet the Leader, Bellamy, diplomatically. Do this, and the rank of Diplomat is yours” "Speech"

Right, the birds. That made sense in Dread's mind. He nodded as the Warlord spoke, turning to find something heavy. Halo was rather particular about her buckets, and she'd probably like this one back. The yearling was careful as he moved the various scraps into a tin from within the shed, one with a heavy lid. It should be easy enough to clean out too... he hoped. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the smell. Well, at least it seemed to be pretty effective for the fish. Yuck.

Diplomacy. Right, that was the word he'd been looking for. Dread would be going down to Ethne, all the way to Auster. It was farther than any of the errands that Halo had sent him on. He'd have to take someone with him, one of the warriors, someone who knew the way. He was going to see Bellamy with a knife, probably something Ruga cooked up. The yearling nodded, happy to take on the task. "Do I need to bring anything back in return?" It was a trade, after all. What would Ethne give in return? "Do you know if Mortis is busy?" His older brother would probably be the easiest one to track down, and maybe the best company. That... and maybe he'd be the most likely to let Dread take the long way home on his own. Not that it factored into his decision of course but... it totally may have.

"Dread Fatalis"

Sirius Fatalis Diplomacy had never been the Warlord's strong suit. At the start of his reign, he had believed he could forgo it entirely. As he grew, and the pack grew around him, he realised it was an unavoidable part of life. It was important to have wolves who’s strength and passion lay in its foundation. He wasn’t displeased in his son’s interest. “No, this is more… a proof of concept before Bellamy gives us the full list.” He explained, and then shook his head. “I don’t believe he is, I’m sure he would be happy to be your escort” The winged wolf could benefit from some bonding with his younger siblings, Sirius was certain. "Speech"