Sales Pitch

As he set aside his crafting supplies he glanced up to meet Aurielle's smile. He returned it with one of his own and sat back. "Lady Aurielle," he greeted, inclining his head respectfully. "I've been enjoying them. Your festival has attracted quite the variety of wolves, and it's been a pleasure to wolf-watch." He gave a rumbling chuckle. "I'm hoping to get some of my wares sold, get my name out there so as folk know to come by me when they're in need of something." He shook out his spikey mane and glanced critically over the container he'd been making. Certainly one of the plainer things he'd made, so far, but he did plan to try something to add some color to the resin coating it later. It might sell, it might not. If it wasn't up to his standards for selling, he'd keep it and use it for storage. "Ah, but that is not why I asked to see you," he said, dragging his attention back with an apologetic smile. "I apologize if my bluntness now seems rudeness, but for the sake of not wasting any of your time, I will ask you straight out - are you accepting new wolves into your pack? I have observed you and your pack on several occasions now and believe your values align with my own, and, if you'd have me, I do feel I have skills that would be beneficial to you. I am a guardian and hunter, though my passion is my crafting. I dip my paw into a variety of other skills as well, though I haven't the aptitude to master them." His voice remained calm and quiet, revealing no sign of nervousness or desperation. Just calm, matter-of-fact practicality. He didn't need to join Valhalla. He would survive without it. His seeking to join was a choice, and while being turned down would be a disappointment, it wasn't one that would cause him any harm, so he didn't wait with bated breath so much as he did respectful interest for her answer.