That deafen us like hurricanes

Basilisk let his eyes roam over the wolves that had gathered before him. Taking note of those that showed, and those that didn’t. Their absence here was a statement, and he would not forget it. He leaned a little forward, the towering giant of a creature as he looked at his wolves. “I’ll begin.” He said, having waited long enough for any stragglers. “I am Basilisk Fatalis, the new leader of the Armada. You have known me as Heir for most of my life, and now you will know me as Warlord. With this change in leadership, I’ll be making some changes to the pack. I have adjusted the ranks” he said, and listed out the highlights for them now.

“Those that wish to challenge for a higher rank are encouraged to do so, and may see me after this meeting. The Armada must grow, we need more bodies to compete in this world. Another way to rise in ranks would be to recruit for ones below you. All the way down to Songbird.”
“Two other matters to raise: Are there any here that disagree with this leadership? And the other: I wish to gather a general idea. Who agrees with Raiding in the winter?” He asked. Letting his eyes roam skim across the faces, some more familiar than others.

"Basilisk Fatalis"