The pirate stalked across the snow-flecked sands with purpose toward the edges of his territory. His eyes were trained to catch anything that might wander across the invisible line of the borders, but he had not seen a passerby for many days. Keeping his head held aloft, Smokestep drew in the scents of the bay and then exhaled with a small and curling smile. It was pleasant to have a place to call his own; he wondered if the feeling was similar to how his father had felt when he had first set foot on the location for Blackrock Depths. Not interested in following the standard pack system, the boy had crafted something of his very own and found it to bring him a peace that he had never truly understood before.

As he drew closer, the scent of one unfamiliar wafted through his nostrils and caused his pelt to bristle slightly. Turning sharply, he careened toward where she was standing. As he closed some of the distance, he noticed the abnormalities of her frame and wondered how the Ironsea crew had come to be a collection of misfits and freaks. It didn't matter, so long as they did their job and remained on task. Flicking his tail upward, the corsair bid her a soft chuff of a greeting and then slowed his pace. “Ahoy, lass... what brings ye to me borders?” the brute inquired with a cant of his skull and a small smirk.

Roz was silent, which allowed for the stranger to speak up about herself. She began with introduction, to which he nodded his head and offered a small smile. She then explained that Roz had lured her in with tale of their lives and he glanced toward the muddy red woman with an approving bob of his skull. It was good to see others reaching out to expand their crew. Smokestep wanted nothing more than to exceed the expectations that had been set on him. He would ruin it all with his own success.

“Nox, right, pleasure to meet ye, lass,” he said with a toothy grin. “Me name's Smokestep an' this here's the Ironsea crew's bay. Ye seem the type to fit right in.” It wasn't an exaggeration of the truth, either. The pale marauder actually believed that she was an ideal member, but he wanted to make sure that it wasn't some sort of a joke. She was rather homely looking, and he wouldn't have put it past Roz to pull a poor prank. “Did she give ye the run down on how we pirate folk live? How ye'd be expected to pitch in?” he inquired with a tilt of his head.

Rosalyn opted to give the newcomer a rundown of what was to be expected and Smokestep was pleased with her answer. He demonstrated this in a small nod of his head and a wink toward the reddish woman. Their lifestyle was a simple one, but there were key elements that – if ignored – could result in the death of those who were unaware. The pale Captain appreciated that Roz had mentioned this important portion of joining their crew. Once she had finished with the spiel, he fixed his mismatched gaze on their pale companion and smiled softly.
 
“Ye seem a good fit, then lass,” he remarked with a sure bob of his head. “Welcome to the Ironsea crew. Would ye like the grand tour?” Motioning toward their land with a swinging of his head, the yearling admired his claim. It would treat them well if they treated it with respect, at least that was what his father had always said about the bay. They could survive for quite some time there. If the crew was strong and the land provided them with means of survival, they would be there for the rest of his life.

“Right then,” he said in a bright tone. The pale corsair then swung his head in the direction they were intended to travel and expected the two of them to follow. The length of his limbs made for great strides, which he slowed for the benefit of the two women with him. “If ye like a fight, we ought to have good trades fer ye to pursue,” he encouraged her with a smile. Of course, the pale girl hadn’t really stated that she enjoyed fighting as much as she had said she was good at taking a beating. Smokestep enjoyed filling in the blanks with assumptions, so he let the offer stand.
 
The trio trekked across the beach and he motioned toward the forested back. “We’ve got a speck o’ forest fer ye to find some shade. A series o’ caves not too far down the beach,” he swung his head to the west of where they walked. “Plenty o’ sand an’ sunshine, and the best water ye’ve ever seen.” A glow of pride crossed his features as he gazed out to the lapping ocean waves.