i have no fear, no hate to give

It was always a mix of both refreshing and surprising when a new face made no expression of shock or a double-take when they first clapped eyes on him.

Granted with how wolves had become in Boreas and Auster – and perhaps in lands beyond, who knew – those who were native to the two continents were somewhat used to the mutations and features of those who lived on them. He’d heard, if not personally met, of at least two wolves that had wings.

His muzzle dipped in a respectful nod of acknowledgement to the man – Torben’s – greeting and introduction, one ear tipping slightly to one side as a soft rush of wings announced Lyr’s arrival and the raven dropped to perch on the wall, head cocking to regard the pale man with interest.

“This is Lyr, my friend since pup-hood. New starts are always good.” He indicated the raven with a tip of his head and a smile, the expression widening slightly with the latter remark.

He took in the man’s self-assessment, eyes roving the large frame—a fighter, perhaps, though large and strong didn’t always mean warrior. The male was older than Ardyn, in his prime.

“Our values are that of unity, integrity, loyalty and honor. Valhalla has been here in the west of Boreas for generations in some form or another since it arrived in the Great Exodus from the Old Land of Alacritia after a great eruption decimated Alacritia. My forbears and one or two other packs were able to escape ahead of the worst of it thanks to a pack that was local to the volcano and felt the warnings. There’s a great deal of history, and I am willing to share it.”

His lips twitched in a grin, eyes twinkling within the glowing mask of fire and ice markings as he tipped his head, stating, “At current, we value ambition to better oneself and skills for the betterment of the pack. Working hard and working as a team. Challenging for a higher rank is encouraged, but the challenger should be fighting for the pack, and not just his own ambitions and personal gain alone.”

The young King let his haunches lower with a flick of his tail and flare of molten light as the long hairs settled over the frosty ground around his paws, and he continued with his narration, studying the male with interest.
“All members are expected to learn at least the basics of healing and fighting, even if they aren’t called to those skills. They should be able to defend themselves when out alone and provide their own first aid if injured in the field. This is just a small glimpse of our home and culture. Does it sound like something you could thrive in?”

Darkness had almost settled by now, but he had little trouble seeing the man’s features, and he watched them as he fell silent, giving the man time to think, consider, and make his decisions. He didn’t press further, content to wait.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think