The Sentinels rot until the weeds are grown
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Ooc — Laur
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#1
All Welcome 
Open to anyone! Maybe an Ironsea wolf ;)

He couldn't shake the encounter with Screech from his mind as much as he tried to. That single, golden eye completely devoid of spirit and soul had been burned into his memory. The boy had changed and seemed beyond saving, beyond recognition of what used to be Screech. Those wretched Redhawks had done something to him. As much as he despised his former friend, his anger had shifted. His family were still just as bad as the one they cast out.

The Cairn paced silently through the charred and long dead remains of what once could have been considered a mighty forest. Unknown to even himself, Redshank had been here once before, when the trees still stood tall. The moment hadn't lasted long, and the very fire that extinguished life from this place was the same one that had uprooted his own life.

Oblivious to the significance of the area, the boy trudged onwards aimlessly, picking his way over the fallen giants and their gnarled roots. Here and there, he was able to catch signs of life — a sprig of green peeking through the pale deadwood, the distant sound of a bird call — but he had a feeling the forest would not be able to support much else.

So he continued northwards.
Fear is the heart of love
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Rosalyn needed to call her crew together (her crew, wow) and inform them of the new order... but first she needed to get her head on straight.  Best way to do that? Travel.

She didn't want trouble, so ran south instead of north.  But she didn't make it far before she spotted a wolf who looked oddly familiar, for some reason.  Did he have a brother?

Annoyed by the feeling of deja vu, but the inability to place it, she stopped, staring at him intently (and honestly rudely).
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When he felt a set of eyes upon him, the boy stopped, his own narrowing as he cast his gaze in the direction of a scent that broke through the ashy smell of this forest. He spotted her quite easily, a shock of auburn amongst the muted browns and greys of the landscape. There was a flicker of recognition as he stared at the woman, a brief moment that caught Redshank by surprise before his usual bullheadedness regained control. "Th'fuck are y'lookin' at?" he spat, noticing her gawping (though who could blame her? He really was a sight for sore eyes).
Fear is the heart of love
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When he spoke, it clicked, and recognition lit up her expression.  "You were that crazy chico with the neck thing.  Guess you got outta that then."  She smirked.  He definitely hadn't been top of his game at that time, though he seemed a sight more aware now.

"The fuck are you heading?"  She asked, and where his tone had been moderately aggressive, hers was extremely affable.  They weren't near enough Ironsea for her to worry, and their previous encounter made him interesting.
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Oh. Ohh. They seemed to recognise each other in the same instant, though where the stranger's features lit up, Redshank's only darkened. He had only just managed to repress the memory of being shot in the backside and blacking out — twice — only to wake up with some foreign object strangling his throat. And he still didn't know what that had all been about. Unable to come up with any sort of comeback, he instead just gave a low, frustrated grunt at her light-hearted teasing.

At her query, the boy shrugged. He was taken aback slightly by her jesting tone, so used to strangers meeting his aggression with similar hostility. He was thankful for it, if he had to be honest. "I..." Good question. "...I don't fuckin' know," he admitted lowly, defeat laced into the reluctance of his words.
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He didn't seem quite as thrilled to see her, which made sense.  She hadn't exactly helped him after all, but moreso left him to it to sort it out himself.  Well, he'd lived, yeah? So more power to him.

"Well, guess that sounds like a problem.  Or an opportunity.  You don't know where your goin, guess you don't have anywhere you have to be." She'd enjoyed that state at times, though honestly she preferred now.  Better to have someplace waiting for you.
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#7
This wouldn't have been a problem if my traitorous friend hadn't sided with those Redhawk bastards, he thought sourly in response, features twisting into a scowl for a second before falling back into his usual expression of mild annoyance. He shrugged again at her insightful comment. Where it had been freeing once, this lifestyle just seemed to bring more uncertainty with each passing week. He had been looking forward to staking his own claim, having a place he and his once allies could have ruled over. But now...nothing.

"I guess," he half-mumbled, looking from her gleaming eyes and over the ruined landscape, before just as quickly shooting back to her smirking features with a sceptical but quietly intrigued expression. "Opportunity?"
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"If you don't have anywhere to be, you get to choose where to go," she said with a shrug.  Then added, nonchalantly, "any ideas?"

Of course she had alterior motive here - if he was able he might make a fine addition to her crew.  And if he was solo that meant he was available.  Hopefully his aims lay on the sea, but she didn't want to seem too eager to snap him up.
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She continued to be frustratingly vague, but then maybe the woman was a philosophical sort? No. She didn't seem the type. It seemed that she was just toying with him, either out of boredom or because of some sick, twisted joy she got out of throwing puzzling queries at strangers. Any ideas? He avoided her gaze as he sorted through the many answers to that that weren't just straight up telling her to fuck off out of spite. Truthfully, he didn't know. Getting to the ocean was as far as he had planned.

He shifted, ears falling backwards as he answered after some hesitation. "North." It was better than nothing, at least.
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Wow this guy was a friendly little fuck wasn't he?  His moodiness wasn't ingratiating him to her at all, and she appraised him silently a moment, split.  On one side, she wondered if he'd make a terrible crewmate for it.  She didn't want wolves who couldn't get along and didn't know what they wanted or how to make friends.  On the other, they needed bodies.

She could always punt him into the surf later?

"Well.  If you decide to make those plans a little clearer, I got a crew of my own on the shore just north of here.  We don't expect much; loyalty and support in the crew would really be your only jobs.  But it's a solid bunch to have at your back."  She almost led into Smokestep's warning, but recalled the choice was hers now.
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His dour expression remained as he stared out at the horizon in the distance that was only just visible through the charred and burnt trees. His ears swivelled towards his company, however, as she spoke, before perking up at one specific word — crew. His head and gaze followed then to turn to her, brow crinkling as he remembered a former encounter with a jolt. That odd, pale-furred man had referred to his pack as a crew as well.

"Wait," he started slowly, trying to catch her eye. "Y'wouldn't happen t'know a guy with two coloured eyes? White fur. Talked real fuckin' weird." He shuddered inwardly as he also remembered the wound he had inflicted upon the man's chest, and how it barely affected him at all. He had extended an offer too, but that had been before...everything. But he had also sought to claim a bay along the coast, with a crew.
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The smile she'd worn practically the entire meeting faded some when he asked his question, seeming to recognize something in her to be similar to who must have been Smokestep.  "Aye I knew him.  He left, so I'm standing in."  Indefinitely, but they'd see.  "You met him I'm guessin? Surprised he didn't snag ye then and there."
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He couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow as she spoke. He remembered the strange man had said he had come to reclaim his father's territory, and so was curious why he had apparently left. A falling out? A summons back to whatever crew he originally hailed from? He assumed by her words that this meant the auburn-furred woman was the leader now, and Redshank couldn't help but perk up a little, intrigue piqued. Living by the sea was not something he could have ever imagined, but he truly had nowhere else to go. No friends. No family. The fact that the pale knave was seemingly no longer around was a bit of a bonus, as well.

"He tried," Redshank said offhandedly. Not a complete lie, as the corsair had extended an offer for the boy to visit the bay. Not that he had taken him up on it, however, as he had been shaken by the whole ordeal, really. But now...

"I thought he was a feral," he admitted with a shrug before the smallest flicker of a smile flashed across his features and he added, "but I guess I must've impressed 'im."
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"Yeah?"  She didn't know what he meant by a feral, and didn't bother asking, seein as it no longer mattered anyway.  His confidence at least seemed intact even if his decision making seemed a bit slow.

"I may be a bit harder to impress," she said with an amused look.  "But I'm at least intrigued, and I got a thing for collecting strays.  If you were lookin for a place to throw your lot in, we have room."
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She shot back a challenge to his arrogant claim, but with a look of mirth that made Redshank unsure if she was joking or not. He wasn't looking to impress, really, even if this was the Alpha he was talking to. Let them think what they wanted. Yet for all his conceitedness, pure fear had eaten away at his core. The boy was scared for the future, for his friend, for himself. He tucked it away, deep, deep down, but it still showed in the nervous splay of his ears and the brief flickers of panic in his eyes.

Got a thing for collecting strays. He let out a soft tch of amusement but found the comment somewhat endearing. Maybe the woman wasn't as much of a bitch as he had first thought. He let the silence after her offer hang in the air for a moment, debating; though it wasn't like he really had a choice. "Alright," he said, looking to her with a lift of his chin. "Consider me part of y'crew."
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That's the spirit, she thought, appreciating that he took her words in the proper tone.  Some would get offended at being referred to as a stray, but she wasn't here to stroke anyone's ego.  Opposite really.  Her crew didn't really have room for those that couldn't poke a bit of fun at themselves now and then.

"Glad to have you aboard! Or, I'm sure they will be once you meet some of em.  C'mon."  She gestured invitingly, assuming he had nowhere else to be right now anyway, so why not come see the place.  He'd have plenty of time to wander aimlessly after, but she had a crew to get back to.

we can fade here if you like or keep going! I'm fine either way!
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Happy to fade it here!

Her gesture to follow was taken onboard, and he did so with a slight dip of his head as he began to trail after the woman. Her assumptions were true, the boy's aimless wandering had been just that — aimless. He had been worrying about finding somewhere to sleep and so it was serendipitous that she had found him. A pack meant he no longer had to worry about the loner lifestyle, but it brought with it its own anxieties. What was the rest of the crew like? Were they actually loyal like she said? Or did they make it a habit of turning on their friends as well?

Thoughts of Screech and Niamh drifted into his mind but Redshank shoved the them aside with an irritated flick of his tail. He would figure this crew out, along with the copper-haired woman who led them, in time. For now, he was just happy to have a place to rest.