Charisma Checks Are My Favored Terrain

The older male explained that trails were indeed a facet of life in this pack, but only for higher ranks. Sorenn nodded, considering the words as keen blue eyes traced him over. He got the sense that this old coot wasn't a wolf to mess with. Sorenn was still young, but he had seen his share of wolves. Some were loud and boastful, but the oldest wolves he'd known were those wise enough to stay alive. A big mouth wasn't conducive to long life. So yeah, he figured this male had been around. Still, he was a bit surprised to be so efficiently called out. "Traders? Or smugglers?" His expression remained unchanged, lacking judgement. Unfortunately that told Sorenn nothing of his true feelings on the matter, because he trusted the other male to school himself into neutrality regardless.

Sorenn let a crooked grin overtake his lips. "Well," he hedged, laughing briefly and quietly under his breath. "Depended on the day, really." They were mercenaries and raiders as much as they were traders. If a job presented itself, their leaders weren't known for turning work away. Morality was subjective, anyways. "As for ranking, if you have a place for traders of various persuasion, I'd be more than happy to prove my worth to whatever rank in the hierarchy you'd prefer." He shrugged. He really wasn't built to roam alone, so he hoped that was enough to satisfy the man for now. He would have to do his own sussing out before committing to anything grandiose, besides.