Drinks are on me!

The wolf answered his question in speaking more on his origins. A bastard child. "Ahhh," the soft sound escaped his muzzle as if to suggest that one little fact explained everything. In some packs, it did. He knew there were different flavors of society out there and that each pack held their own unique rules, cultures, and associated traditions. Here? Wherever the wolf came from meant nothing so long as who he became was worthy of being here.

Despite his circumstances, it appeared as though the wolf still had spirit. Kerosene grinned, chuckling lightly at his mention that he still enjoyed a good spar. Didn't they all? "Well now. Maybe you can learn to find some enjoyment in it." He shrugged it was always up to the wolf, wasn't it? They got to pick what they enjoyed, what they didn't. "Tonravik already said it, but while we require all members of the Spine to be trained as Warriors and Wardens, you're more than welcome to pick up a third hobby of your choosing. See if there's anything else you might like."

Maybe there was. Maybe there wasn't. As for fighting? "You and I should have a friendly spar sometime." He'd enjoy it much as Arverk. Testing the body's limits certainly had a way of making any wolf feel more alive. "Any other time, I'd say let's go for it and try the mountain air, but unfortunately I'm still recovering from a previous encounter." He wasn't going to risk reopening any wounds until he was certain they'd healed. Soon, but not soon enough to test them in the present moment. "Rain check on that one. I promise I'll make it worth the wait."