Drinks are on me!

The wolf was somewhat slow to speak, as if the question was not immediate upon his mind, but rather thoughtful and considered before the words fell at home upon the air. Did Kerosene speak Tonravik's native tongue? "I do not." It was why she'd named Arverk and given him a new start. Once upon a time, she'd named Kerosene too. Her words. Her ways. He was supportive of them and in time he'd learn well enough that they could become their ways and their words. Until then? He wasn't going to change a thing about her. Wouldn't dream of it.

"Fortunately, she is also well versed in this one and uses the other sparingly." If she spoke at all. A light grin fell upon his muzzle. It seemed they would both be admiring the view quite a bit on this encounter as they surrendered each other to silence. Kerosene was unbothered by it. Then again, he was mate to the female who spoke so infrequently that for her to break the silence at all meant it was best for one to be paying attention.

Any pay attention he could, for when the wolf spoke next he described a series of jobs that were solitary tasks. Things that required no other at ones side. "An assassin of sorts?" he asked in question, wondering what his wolf was truly capable of. "What assignment have you most enjoyed?"