Sea Lion Shores Not all those who wander are lost

The girl asked if Smokestep had actually practiced what he was preaching. He recoiled a little bit and looked at her with a set of blinking eyes before a grin split his features and he chuckled. “O’ course that’s wot I did. Ye can’t settle down til ye know wot ye want from life, aye?” he laughed boisterously at her and then shook his head, as though she had asked him a rhetorical question instead of a genuine one. He’d answered it still, and he was feeling pretty confident in what he’d said to hold his own against the girl. She seemed soft enough that she wouldn’t bite too hard if he were to play with words off and on.
 
Then, the girl brought up what she’d done for most of her travels. She didn’t seem as though she had wanted to settle down right away. Smokestep found that a little odd because he couldn’t imagine life without the support of a pack behind him. No matter where he’d been, the pirate had always had a crew. His father had taught him that the strength of the pack was a good reference for the strength in a man. Perhaps women didn’t worry as much about all of that nonsense, but Smokestep had only ever wanted to be strong. “Well, I’d say that’s a shame, but ye seem happy enough. Wot do ye look fer in an ideal pack? Wots yer dream home like?” he asked her, wanting genuinely to know the answer. It was different for everyone.