Silver Moraine I only deal in absolutes

She was smart and compromising? Phoenix didn't know how lucky he was, but he could feel it in the way a smile parted his jaws in response to her offer. Nodding, he pressed his ears forward as she told him the basics—a good start—before proceeding to ask him about his own non-existent pack. As high as she could make him feel, she could certainly bring on the lows too; just like a good wife. He swallowed thickly as he felt the shame of packlessness more intensely than he ever had before. Even when regretting his decision to disperse, he'd never felt so useless, but in this moment Ishara made him feel worthless as a lone wolf. And much like she hadn't felt Easy was a good enough title to give him, Phoenix hesitated to revel to her his unmaking.

"I'm, kinda in-between packs at the moment..." he admitted at great length, with a small cough tacked on to distract. "But I used to be the best scout back home," he went on quickly. "Also not bad in a fight. My dad lost one of his eyes too, so I had to step up on the defensive front as soon as I could." He almost went on to explain that sparring so much had left him a little sore in the hunter's department, but before he could continue his word-vomit, he decided that admitting too many weaknesses in the same breath would be a detriment to his image.