Gyrfalcon's Keep Imma shine

The woman Dakini spoke with an accent that was entirely unfamiliar to the young pirate. His ears swiveled atop his crown as she spoke, careful to pick up the peculiar ways that she pronounced different words, before he had even started to formulate a response. The young lad felt moderately sheepish for having focused on the imperfections of her own words, when he had been told numerous times that he was challenging to listen to. Smokestep supposed that it didn't matter much where she derived from, as long as she was willing to learn their ways and adopt the pirate lifestyle, she was worth a chance. Before he would grant her permission to join his crew, he knew that she had to be made aware of their codes. Without it, she would be walking into a life-long contract without knowledge.

The corsair eyed her with a calculating stare, rolling his gaze up and down her smaller frame. “Aye, she smells lovely, but the sea is nothin' ta feel safe with. She's a wicked temptress and she'll swallow ye whole jus' as soon as look at ye,” he warned her with a stern nod of his skull. Smokestep had an undying love for the ocean and her beauty, but he knew her dangers all too well. The young hound had watched countless bodies get pulled into the depths, never to return to shore.

“Oi well then... I dunno yer worth, miss, but it seems like Roz will vouch fer ye. I need ye to know before ye make any pledges to me crew; once yer a pirate, yer always a pirate. If ye abandon the crew, we'll be quick to hunt ye down. Ye understand, miss?”