The Sentinels if you are the dealer, i'm out of the game

Word vomit is lovely! Thank you so much for starting this up. <3

It should have meant very little that Kingfisher had finally returned to his home. The pallid hound had been swept away at such an early age, he had very little recollection of the place or what surrounded it. For some, the devastation that had fallen on the Sentinels had been grounding. To him, it was a sad and desolate portion of his landscape... but nothing more. It was true that his father had spoken kindly on the forest and the few wolves within – those who had forged his alliance – and Smokestep was witness to enough of that. Deirdre had been a kindly wolf who had dutifully tended to Skellige. He was the aggressor on a warpath that could likely not be quenched, while she was the ethereal beauty who scarcely touched the ground that she walked upon. There could not have been a more different pair. They had managed to make their lives work, though. This was something that the young pirate could respect. Still, it was not an aspect of his father's life that he wished to experience himself.

The limber youth had left the bay that day in search of those who might have sought out the forest, hoping to relive a past portion of their lives. The stench of ash and dead wood had consumed the terrain, dampened by the thick blanket of snow that had settled over top. The corsair did not believe that anyone could still find the sentinels to hold appeal. Deirdre had spoken of a mystical aura that had filled the woods and brought life to all that came from the earth, taking only what would decay on top of it. She had whispered reverently about her old home, but Smokestep saw nothing like that where he stood.

As the pale hound picked his way carefully over a precariously fallen log, his gaze settles on an unfamiliar figure who stood rigidly in the remains of the forest. It seemed as though the outsider was lost in thought. Naturally, the pirate was curious; he moved further inward and chuffed softly to sound his approach. A set of bi-colored optics was glued to the peculiar beast.