Blackbeak Bluff My Favorite Hour

The pallid corsair trekked out further from his intended claim in search of others who might seek to join their brood. His eyes trailed over the flow of the bluff, seeing only white and silver against a drab grey backdrop. The Cairn boy was beginning to wonder if they would truly come to fruition, or if he had set his hopes on something that was unobtainable. Lengthy limbs carried him with precise steps, sauntering along a terrain that he was certain he would become familiar with. Flicking his tail behind him, Smokestep's lips parted into a pant as he made his way.

It did not take long for him to catch sight of an inky sort of being, some yards away from him. He slowed his pace and drew his skull upward, regarding the creature to see if it was a wolf or not. It appeared so, and the pirate closed some of the distance that stretched between them in a few long steps. “Ahoy, lass,” he greeted to the dark wolfess with a tossing of his muzzle toward the air.