Ravensblood Forest blood flutes

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Olive was quiet, which gave Armand the chance to speak for himself and before the Ceannasach this was the best thing. Olive could only vouch for Armand so far, and eventually, it would fall upon him to make the decision on what to do. A lot of Teaghlaigh’s joining process relied heavily upon the Comhlachs and less on the Ceannasach; then again he did not deign to do their work for them, nor make it easy on them. Joining the Family in full was no joke and Arturo had to be sure that they could carry the burden, that they understood the consequences if they betrayed it. The initiation that he put all Comhlach’s through would either prove they could and were willing to shoulder the burden, to join the Family or it would break them and they would seek asylum elsewhere. In the end, it would always be their choice, their decision. He was simply a guiding or an enforcing figure to them, and that also depended upon the Comhlachs. Armand spoke that it was torment of his mind and would Arturo not have mastered his poker face years ago he might have blanched. He knew the torments of the mind all too well. It was a familiar and unwelcome presence and though it was a vague answer Arturo, should Armand accept the role of Comhlach would deign to keep an eye upon him.

When Armand spoke his skills a terse pull of the melanistic coy wolf’s lips were given. “How do you figure that? I am an efficient man, Armand,” A ghost of a smirk then tugged upon the gangster’s lips. “I find all skills useful.” And he certainly welcomed them. Especially one that claimed to be fleet of foot and cunning. Both he could appreciate. Yet…how to assign him a task. It sounded like he might be well fitted for a spy, and idly Arturo wondered if Armand was like his mummer queen who adopted many masks and many personalities. Out of faith and trust Arturo did not deign to spy upon his allies, and Teaghlaigh did not particularly have enemies. It was not something he was in any rush to change, presently. It was unavoidable, certainly. He would have to be clever about it, he realized, knowing that he could not send Armand on a run of the mill errand.

“Pick a pack inland, away from the coast. Discreetly gleam what information you can about them and report back to me what you have learned.” Information was power, after all, and this task was intended to cater to Armand’s claimed cunning, wondering if he could charm as well. “I expect to hear of your progress soon, Comhlach.” The gangster replied with a wisp of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was only after he had finished speaking that it occurred to Arturo that he had yet to offer the other his name. “By the way," The gangster drew in a soft breath. "I am Arturo. Arturo Fearghal.” Though for the purpose of remaining somewhat anonymous he did not include his rank. He was missing his red herring but that did not mean he would not act like he didn’t still have one. The protocol was in place for a reason and the inner workings and rankings of the Family were not known to the Comhlachs.

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