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

“Ahh... yer Arturo then.”

After the coywolf had introduced himself, the young pirate latched his eyes to the wolf with a new interest. The name of his former pack would have been impossible for the Cairn to repeat, so he had not tried. Hearing it from Arturo's mouth was an entirely different experience than hearing it from Skellige's. Granted, it was evident that the forest pack had been dear to the coywolf male. The corsair could not have shared the sentiment that Arturo was destined to cross paths with the Cairn family, for he had never before met the fiery-eyed wolf. In spite of this, Smokestep had heard good tales of the wolf that stood before him, and though he did not seem quite as remarkable as his father had painted him to be, the young wolf knew better than to judge based on appearances.

“Ye were me father's Witchdoctor, aye?” the young wolf inquired with a canting of his head. “I've heard 'bout ye from him.” Not that it was relevant, but Skellige had been fond of Arturo and had thought highly of him. Smokestep wondered what had transpired after Blackrock Depths fell to ruin and the Cairn wolves vanished from the shoreline. It seemed that the coywolf no longer held a claim over the forest that he had referred to, but it was not worth mentioning just yet.