Stavanger Bay barnacle bill

Welcome to Ironsea's first gathering! We're going to discuss some ranks IC so that you can start plotting out how to move forward with something to reference. We will openly discuss pack policy and how we are to treat some situations. Then, we're going to close out the thread with some fun. This meeting will run in 3 parts over 3 weeks - once a week posts - and is mandatory. There will be no posting order, but please post once a week with your character. So, let's get it on! :D @Rosalyn @Raptor @Arturo @Hexe @Sandpiper @Engel @Godot @Nox @Erzulie @Tetsubō @Dakini

It was early evening when Smokestep pulled himself from his den and found a perch upon the high boulder that jutted from beside the rock wall. His gaze wandered out across the sea with a deeply rooted love; it was all that he had ever truly known as a home. The crew had been running well for some time. He was pleased with the results, and though there were stragglers who had wandered away, his hunt for them would never cease. The life of a pirate released none without punishment for wrong deeds, and though he had been pleased with the return of Dakini, Brig and Ava’s scent had trailed out beyond the pack and had vanished somewhere in the wilds. His intention would be to gather willing members and seek them out – search for answers – and if they had opted to abandon the life he had offered them, he would take what was owed from both. Before this task was to be set, he was eager to gather his crew for a meeting; it was time that they all were pulled together with each other and shown what it meant to be part of a true pirate crew.
 
The young Captain breathed in the brine for a moment and as the sun ticked down against the orange-blue sky, he drew his head and called for his wolves. ”All hands on deck! his voice carried over the bay and bid them to come to him. Some part of him hoped that Brig and Ava would arrive as well; to know that they were safe and had returned to their home, but the male with the limp had not been seen for some time and the young female who had aspired in the arts of healing had seemed to wander away not long ago. Smokestep had followed a short scent trail out of the bay and he had not noted any return in the sandy female’s aroma. Disheartened but hopeful that he could will them back to his bay, Smokestep waited for the others to arrive and kept a close eye out for the – still missing – two members.
 
Waves crashed against the shore and echoed promises of life and spring in the oceanside pack. In spite of their troubles and the few who had not gotten along, the pale corsair was proud of those who had dedicated themselves to the pack. The cry of gulls sounded overhead and broke through the sound of water beating against the shore before their wings caught the better end of a sharp breeze and they were carried away. Smokestep’s mismatched gaze searched the sands and the water for those who would approach first. He would pleasantly greet them all before they began. His paws itched with the promise of what was to come, and his mind raced with pleasure at the thought of all that they had accomplished so far. It would only get better from there.