Sequoia Coast your heart is like the ocean, mysterious and dark

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The culture of his homeland was something that would remain ingrained with him for the rest of his days; it was a culture that he intended to share with the wolves he allowed into his pack. They would be asked to uptake the nature of the Warsaw wolves and he would be the one to show them. The task ahead of him was massive, and there were times that the daunting thought of it was too much for the wraith to bear, but he was fueled by the anger in his heart. The banishment had left him a sour beast, and there had never been a time in his life when he had felt more like the spirit that guided him. The ocean was his hunting ground, and those who trailed into his path would fear the very ground he walked on.
 
But this soft little girl from the forest was something else entirely. She was good and kind, and she had a heart that spoke for the wellbeing of others. The great inky titan did not think that she would be so readily willing to strike the alliance with him. She was young still, though, and he knew that there was a large chance she did not fully understand the ties that would bind them together. They would have time to explore that later, he imagined. Without any sense or reason to it, Skellige had become something of a shadowed guardian over the green-eyed girl; watching out for her where others intended harm.
 
While she spoke the way she had been raised, his ears drew forward and he listened with confusion etched on his stern features. It did not make sense to him that a child so pure could come from a background of minimal structure. When he reflected on the light of his own upbringing, he realized that they were built on opposite platforms. Skellige had been raised on brutal work and the makings of a monster, but she had been forged by the light of a gentle hand and it had blessed her with a quiet innocence. Doubts began to stir in his mind at the thought of the alliance. Surely, the other wolves of her pack would want to turn him away from their borders as soon as they caught sight of him. The only thing he had to offer would be the protection of the sea and the bodies of his members. Surely, this would be enticing enough to consider. Nevertheless, he could feel a nervousness growing in his gut like a quiet thunderstorm.
 
“My brother is here… now,” he breathed in answer to her inquiry. It was good to know that Szymon was close and that Skellige was not left without the helpful hands of his siblings. The contrasting young pup had always held a soft spot in the titan’s heart. Szymon had not been meant to be born on the warring tides of Warsaw. He would have flourished in the upbringing that Deirdre had been offered. “I’m certain you two will meet,” he then concluded with a sure nod of his skull and a quick half-smile that soon vanished.
 
It was a time to mourn for the pearl; though Skellige could not empathize with her for the loss of her father and the seeming loss of direction, he could still offer his shoulder to her. “What was… your favorite thing about your father?” he asked uncertainly, eyes flicking toward her face. It was a sad attempt, but lord he was trying. If she could recall the fondness she had for him, perhaps it would help her to move on. If she did not wish to speak of the dead any longer, that would just as soon suit the titan. He had taken many lives in his time, and thinking of them only turned his stomach sour and put his mind out of ease. He had only been doing what was tasked of him; he had been fulfilling the destiny he had been born into.

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