winds of change

“Of course” The Warlord said, seating himself on the grass across from her. It was a valid question, if she wished to join them as family. If what his grandson had said was true, then she was a hard worker and wasn’t above teaching the younger generation. Both skills he would value within the pack. “You can call my Sirius” he added as she referred to him as ‘sir’

“At its heart, the Armada is a pack built on its fighting prowess, of myself and its warriors. First and foremost, those joining will need to learn or display an ability to protect themselves. From there, a prospect can branch into a career of their choice. Be it navigating, hunting, fighting, or a trade. Any questions so far?” he asked, pausing to give her a chance to speak up.


"Speech"