Sleeping Dragon Fire

"Yes," he breathed quietly. "I do not see the worth in worshiping something I have never witnessed with my own senses. I was never moved by their devotion to the faith, and so my own beliefs evolved to consider only what I am worth as a standalone wolf. My survival did not depend on the participation of anyone else, so I simply chose to only believe in myself." It could be considered the same as not having any beliefs, though Warbone did not think that of himself. He was capable of believing in something, but he felt he needed evidence. And there had never been any of The Mother Dragon, besides what he had been told as a child.

He watched Gyda, shining under the moonlight, appearing older and wiser a she was bathed in an otherwordly glow. "You never truly know yourself until you are faced with tragedy," he murmurs, thinking then of a specific event of his past, which he rarely did. She asked then if rank was something he desired, and Warbone considered it for a moment before answering. "I suppose," he drawled at length. "I feel that I am more inclined to coveting the respect that accompanies rank, rather than the rank itself. I have my own title to be proud of, so rank does not matter to me in that way."