The Sentinels a winged victory for the sullen

The mute was intent to hold tight to Ford's expressions. He could not help but to notice the way the other man's eyes clung to his own, following the curling of each expression that passed along his inky lips. It was not unnerving for him, but an interest. When Sentinel shook his head in response to the question that had been posed, the titan was left to wonder if it was suitable to offer a home among the wolves of Stormrift. Surely, the pale boy could have found a great deal of purpose there. They would have been able to help him grow and succeed in spite of his lack of words.

With a decided sigh that filled the air in a great plume of his breath, Ford offered a small smile to his silver-eyed companion. “Through the trees there, my family and I have sought to claim the bay,” the warhound motioned with a gentle swing of his muzzle – past the ashen decay of the woodland around them. “Should you wish, you may join us. We will aid you through any trial you meet; our goals are to grow... together.”