Grimlock’s eyes closed for a few seconds as he scratched his back on the rough bark of the tree, enjoying the scrape of it against his skin and the tug and pull at his fur; besides being a sufficient back scratcher it was also useful for pulling any loose fur out so it didn’t clump unsightly. Grimlock was hardly what anyone would consider prim and prissy but it wasn’t a crime for him to care about his outward appearance. It would be one of the things that would serve to help him find a mate someday, if his dashing personality wasn’t enough, that was. Not that he was anywhere near being old enough to think about having a mate or any of that gooey, romantic crap but it wasn’t like he didn’t think about it sometimes. Blue Willow’s chuckle reminded him of the fact that he was not alone and his eyes opened as he pushed himself away from the tree, giving his coat a firm shake to dispel any of the loose fur.
She introduced herself as Blue Willow and promptly after her name followed her title: Beta. Peregrine had probably mentioned her at some point but his attention span wasn’t exactly at it’s top condition yet and if conversations seemed to get long he began to get lost (which had probably fortified that Grimlock had made a journey he hadn’t, despite his protests and assurances, exactly been ready to make). For a moment the raptor hesitated unsure if he should submit to her or not and then kind of did this awkward little bow thing that was probably more comical than it was submission. He wasn’t exactly used to strict hierarchies and since most of the Falcons had been family, it hadn’t really been ‘submit to your lord leader child or die’ sort of thing. Except when Tyrannus had taken over and Grimlock could have sworn Tyrannus was going to eat him. “You mean to Sarg?” ‘Sarg’ had been what Grimlock had taken to calling Peregrine in affection derived from the military rank ‘Sergeant’. “I’m his nephew. Son of Sveinx and Marigold, little brother of the pain in the ass twins, Gale and Whimsy.” It was probably way more information that Blue Willow needed but he wanted to clarify just in case she knew of their vast family and wondered deeper. Plus, he just wanted to call Gale and Whimsy ‘pains in the assess’ and be able to get away with it finally. “As you can see I boast the finer traits of our founding Matriarch, March Owl,” Except for the stripe of smoky black on his muzzle and the soot colored curves under his eyes but that was neither here nor there.
They were weird markings but made him unique from the monochrome blandness that Redleaf-DiSarinno’s had sort of made (in his opinion).