Stavanger Bay Alone and Confused, Infected and Abused.

I was curious to see where this would go... but I figured now is a good time to pop in.

 

The call at his borders was one that did not draw his interest at first. While he was aware that there would be some attempting to join his ranks with the newly formed pack, he was beginning to grow skeptical of the wolves who would arrive. The sea – he knew – would bless him greatly, but Skellige was aware that she would test him and his strength. The way of a devoted man was to be tried and tried again in the name of his devotion. Their newest recruit was one wolf he had felt the need to keep his eye on, but she had done well so far and had not behaved in a manner that had irked him. There was always a chance to drive him mad, though.
 
As his long limbs carried him toward the sound of the call, the brute caught wind of not one, but three of his members who had answered the beckoning. His dark gaze traveled over the group of wolves: Tetsubo, Szymon, and Fluer. For a moment, the titan was surprised that the newest member would find herself answering a call on the borders. As long as she was keeping the Blackrock safe, he did not have qualms with it.
 
Tensions were high as soon as he stepped on the scene. He had closed in just in time to hear the injured woman explain that she was not a worthless creature and that she was a warrior. Szymon seemed to echo his thoughts well enough; why would he want a poisoned broken thing within his ranks? Drawing his lips over his canines, the wraith stepped forward and drew his skull upward, leering at her with the expression of a shark. “You say you’re not worthless,” he sneered with a snap of his fangs. The fur along his neck and shoulders bristled slightly. “But you’re not intelligent enough to request my presence when your body is healthy and strong.” Skellige’s brows lifted upward and he took a step toward her.
 
“If you can best my dredge Tetsubo in a fight, I will grant you access into my ranks,” he growled to her with a toss of his muzzle toward the slate figure. The dark sea wolf did not want the broken woman in his pack, and his faith was high in the warrior that he had found on the beach. To best him would have been a miracle.