Vocations

Tyr froze as Erani spoke, bringing the attention of the other three females on him. She introduced them to him, two being closely related to her, then admonished them to treat him well. Tyr flicked his ears back uncertainly as one of them - Lyric, Erani's daughter - greeted him cheerfully and welcomed him to the pack. "Th-thank you," he made himself say, not wanting to be rude but not really knowing how to respond.

Erani began to speak once again, going on to speak of vocations. Tyr was interested despite his lingering doubts, pricking his ears forward and angling himself so he could decipher her words easily despite his deafness. This was what she had been speaking of when she invited him to the pack, then. The chance to do something, to be someone worthwhile. But at the same time her words made his brow furrow in worry. Choose what to do? He'd never gotten to choose in his life - running away after Hroovitnir's death, and the events since, were the only true life choices he'd made.

But was it really a choice at all? His body was not equipped for fighting, never would be, and really he had no desire to go into battle. The idea of learning to hunt was appealing, but other than learning to fish he'd had little to no success at it. But healing... could he really make a good healer? He lowered his ears and his gaze, considering it as the other young wolves gave their answers. Suddenly he realized that the others had fallen silent and the attention was on him to make his decision known.

"Uh, I.. uhm. I th-think," he stammered, not making a very good start. He drooped, embarrassed. Did he have to decide in front of them? He took a deep breath and started again. "I think healing's probably the only thing I have a chance of actually being good at." And he did want to be good at something. To actually be a support for the pack instead of a drag on it's resources.



"Speech"

Nothing to gain, everything to fear