Will you stand with us?
Norad Recruitment
Now was the time that Wrecker needed to wait. To be told what the pack was about. In truth, they were more than eager for one; the harrowing encounter with the sea storm that had stolen the she wolf's life left Wrecker feeling a bit nervous about their survival prospects. Beauregard Ravenwood introduced himself, and Wrecker stood quietly, letting him speak. He had quite a bit to say, and that made sense, and Wrecker didn't want to disrupt him at all. Let him say his piece, and let Wrecker consider it in equal measure. The thin-coated wolf leans to one side. Inventors. Doers. Those who return from wandering. Wrecker's ears flick in interest. They can't hide that. "I don't want to start shit either," they drawl, because it's true. From what they've gathered, several of these packs have numbers that Wrecker finds, frankly, intimidating; they seem worn, well established. But this whole... thing-- -- it sounds good. Wrecker thinks about themselves with a craft, or refining one of the things they'd dabbled in in youth, and nods at the image. Yes. They could... yes. "Me? Chh. Well--" Because it wouldn't be fair to say nothing, they supposed. "I'm Wrecker. Wrecker Khau'un. Fifth-born of some nobles somewhere that isn't here. Taught in diplomacy, in wandering and reading the land." Their life before had been rather... boring, really. Constrained. "The usual-- far enough down the line where I wasn't important, really. Lots of freedom, lots of rules." A half-tooth smile. "By the end of it, I wound up being... nobody. Suited me better, I think." They paused, for a moment.
"I used to be good with leatherworking. Could pick that up again. Could do some running between lands, too. Keep an eye down, on the news." A half-way offer, gauging Beauregard's interest in that sort of packmate. |