Whitefish River i have what you're looking for

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A simple name is all that Arturo is offered and it is enough for the gangster. Rollo. It is simple, sweet and lacks the complication of some names. It fits the monochrome colored male before him. Stalwart. Sturdy. Scarred, though such things do not make Arturo squeamish. The scar speaks of a story and this ignites a slow burning curiosity within Arturo. He does not ask and will not, for each is entitled to their own demons. Arturo certainly has his own to live with. Still, he watches the trail of the other man’s tongue over the ruined flesh as discreetly as the gangster can manage, though the burn of his gaze does not linger long. “I have land,” Arturo reiterates with a firm nod of his head, ears thrusting forth atop his skull, as his tail gives a soft sway against his hocks, an errant sort of flick. He desires to ghost forward a step but respects the distance between the two of them. Though vastly different he is struck again with the memory of his first meeting with Skellige. It strikes him with a fondness and a nostalgic sort of bittersweetness that lingers. He has not seen the Leviathan of the Depths and has a bone deep feeling that he will not any time soon, if ever again.

“I have a pack. My Teaghlaigh …my Family.” Family not spoken in the context of mother, father, son, daughter but Family meant in the way of his gang. Family of loyalty and bond. Some of flesh and blood but not all. “We are small, tight-knit and extremely territorial,” The Ravensblood belonged to them: on it they had forged alliances, conceived children and died in the case of some. Ravensblood was as apart of Teaghlaigh as Teaghlaigh was apart of it and the thought of separating the two felt inherently wrong. “And there are only two rules that are enforced and expected to be obeyed: Ceannasach’s Word is Law and The Family Before Everything Else.” Arturo offers the information to Rollo as freely as he can. If the stalwart man decides that Teaghlaigh is not his cup of tea then Arturo hopes to still gain something from the transaction: that at least word would spread; but he is not ready to settle upon the last just yet. Not when there was still so much potential; but as he has given information he patiently waits and watches for what sort of reaction his words might entice from his companion.

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