Moonspear We're dreaming on and on.

Before Talion's greeter could speak again, the arrival of another captured the attention of both males. Periwinkle eyes looked up to glance at yet another obsidian figure, one much smaller and distinctly feminine, and he felt his heart skip an uncomfortable beat. Although he'd gotten significantly more confident in the company of the opposite sex, his anxiety still flared and he feared it might render him useless. Swallowing the new lump in his throat, the peppered yearling noted the male's change in posture and promptly lowered his eyes to the frosted ground, to stare at his pallid forepaws and await acknowledgement from the newest on the scene.

When she questioned him, Talion let his body drop. She was clearly a wolf of authority, and the last thing he wanted to do was offend her. A moment of silence hung over the small group as the platinum yearling racked his mind for the right thing to say. "I'm an excellent tracker and hunter," he managed, then mentally kicked himself. His thinning frame was poor evidence of this, but he hoped that his potential new comrades would realise that travelling as a loner in Winter could affect anyone in such a way. "I can fight, and will defend with my life if I have to."

His training as a guard to the Nereides had begun before he could remember, but it had never been completed. Talion wasn't half the warrior his father was, but he was willing and able to hone the skills he'd gathered during his time at the Strand. Sucking in a breath, the boy continued: "I am no drain on resources - I take when I have to, but give twice as much." Truthfully, he was desperate. He was tired of living alone, of running from an unfortunate past.