Moonspear everyone's a whore, grace

wintersbane's mind is unquiet as he makes the trip from stavanger bay to moonspear; a trek that brings with it a swell of nostalgia. it was a similar one he made many years ago now, though the exact happenings of his first joining with moonspear was unclear with age: had he been recruited? or had he joined? he'd been different then, moonspear'd been different then; both younger. stormbound does not feel like it's his ( it's not ) and the sand and the sea work on and against him. he will be four this year and it was time to settle down for real; to admit that leading wasn't meant to be in his tarot and move on with his life.

he could still have a family. he could still be a father to kids with a mother as opposed to being a phantom father to kids he doesn't and might never know.

it is these things that drive him, that swarm 'round his mind like angry bees as he draws to a stop a respectful distance at moonspear's borders, tips his head back and calls for @Hydra.

It was a familiar face Hydra saw from the vantage point she lingered. She wondered if he would stay, or if he would go; he tips his head backward to summon an audience, and Hydra still wonders behind the reason for his visit. She does not anticipate that he had come to join her ranks; for as long as she had known him, Wintersbane had been a vagrant spirit. Pack to pack he had drifted, but he had at the least remembered to speak of his departure before his going... if she remembered rightly. For whatever reason, Hydra had never begrudged Wintersbane his going all that time ago. He had been willing enough to do what she asked of him in his time with the Blackfeather wolves (as her perception would tell her), and she had not forgotten as much. 

Beyond that Hydra had thought he was no longer of these Wilds. The woods wolves had gone, and Hydra had imagined he had either gone with them or found his own way. Before now, she had not thought much on it. As she approached him, she could not help but wonder where life had led him. To more scars, she guessed—and she searched for them as she bridged the gap, approaching him with ample pride in her own step. The years had fortunately been kind to Hydra, despite what she had lost.

Wintersbane, she drawled, eyes looking him over in search of those scars she had imagined he might have earned. to what do I owe the pleasure? she asked; his was a face she did not mind seeing again.

the tundrian does not have long to wait until hydra makes an appearance and he appreciates her punctuality; and while he would've been happy with any guardian coming to greet him he is, nevertheless, glad that it is hydra first and foremost. it saves a lot of introductions that should she accept him would have to be made regardless. hydra, he rasps in response, dipping his head in a show of submission; finding it easy to humble himself before a queen that he both admires and respects.

their history makes that, at least, go smoothly.

a small smile, wistful, tugs at the edges of scarred lips. i've come seeking a place among your ranks. if you'd have me. he can smell that moonspear is large and contemplates adding 'if you have room for me' but does not. surely, hydra would factor that in her response.

She is surprised to hear his reason behind his being here; she assumes he knows that Vela is not present based off of the absence of her scent alone. I would have you, she drawled, so long as you are willing to protect its inhabitants with your life, and fight with us. And should the Winter pass, and you move on—I would wish for you to tell me, at least, first. It was her respect for him that allowed him this room; she knew him well enough to not imagine he might be a permanent fixture here... but with all the young faces present, it was good to imagine seeing an old friend among the peaks. 

Moonspear has gained newer enemies, Wintersbane. I speak of fighting because the time to do so might come sooner rather than later. At the very least, she hummed, your time here should not be terribly boring. She grinned; Hydra did not think he of all wolves would mind this.

she accepts upon the condition that he protects and fights beside them and that should winter pass and he finds himself drifting let her know before he departs. nothing that he has not asked of his subordinates during his brief escapades as leader. i understand, wintersbane assures her. my teeth are yours to command, hydra. certainly, he was much more skilled than he was the last time he'd been apart of moonspear as her apprentice. he stands before her now older, wiser and a master of his craft.

he is silent and contemplative, as she goes on to tell him that moonspear has new enemies and that war might soon be upon them. while, perhaps, that might cause some wolves to turn tail and find a place more settled, it does not remotely faze wintersbane. for how could it? when he'd came from the womb in the midst of war and turmoil?

tell me about these new enemies? he encourages his once mentor, providing that his acceptance into moonspear has been solidified.

Hydra had not the slightest clue when his teeth might next be put to use... only that surely they would, for some reason or another. He had no complaints as to that, and for that the matriarch was grateful. If only all things in life could be this simple. Perhaps you have already heard of them, she half-asked, looking to him as she gestured to her side, the wolves of Ursus... or perhaps the Saints? The latter was still being determined, but their history granted them little benefit in her considering. She wondered, though, if the Saints might be able to do anything to the wolves of Ursus; were they truly enemies? Perhaps she could see if Donovan or Nyra might bring her one purple-eyed fiends head to prove as much once and for all. 

Now there was a thought. First, though, she wondered on all that Wintersbane knew... if anything. Were he back for long, she imagined he might know something.

if not for his run-in with arlette week(s) ago, wintersbane might not've heard of the saints — and as it stands ursus fails to draw to mind any form of recognition — but his ears cup forth and a small noise rumbles in his scarred throat. not of ursus, no, he drawls. but of the saints? yes. wintersbane responds. though, for them to be your enemy ...i imagine what i've heard does not quite measure up to whatever slights they committed against the spear. and while wintersbane liked arlette, he would — even prior to agreeing that his teeth was hydra's to command — side with moonspear. with them, he has history.

the saints are an enigma and as far as he is aware the only one of their number he knows is arlette. hardly enough to inspire any sort of loyalty nor spark any sort of rebellion. wintersbane was a gambling man it was true, but his respect and loyalty towards hydra ran too deep.

what little i've heard of them came from one of their own. i consider her an acquaintance and i'm afraid when she and i first met i might've encouraged her to join with them. prior to knowing anything about them, of course. it was all murky water under the bridge now and ever the pragmatic gangster, wintersbane feels no guilt in offering hydra this information.