Whitefish River tired blue boy walks my way

The fringes of forest were all Slade needed to observe the woman peacefully. Cry had already informed him of the girl, the brief seconds with the younger assassin giving Slade all he could want when it came to shade. Shade, shadows, silence and an angle in which to understand the newest 'recruit' with more room than a face to face conversation. The very conversation he had to havve, the impending thing that there was no escape from. Not that he desired getting refuge from understanding the recruit; he sometimes didn't feel like talking. Obligations were needed to be fulfilled, regardless.

Stepping from the sheathe of shadows, the behemoth of a wolf strode into the clearing and neared the woman, the one Cry had seemed to retain well enough for her to meet 3 members, already. Well, here was their head.

Interested golden eyes kept on how she fished, taking the time to murder the squirming, flopping thing. He never had been one to enjoy the flavor of aquatic meals...they simply couldn't quench the thirst that a gullet's wine could.

"Hello. I am Slade, the leader of this aspiring band. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you, just yet." The statement hung in the air, soft and encouraging in the bass's dance to her.