The Sentinels no roots

Embry nodded thoughtfully when the wolf spoke his name. It appeared he was pleased by the title, or at least as he spoke it, the word seemed mellifluous enough as it escaped his maw. Nearby, a seagull lighted upon the waves; reappearing only breaths later with a fish squirming in its capable beak. 

Aegaeon. Embry tilted his head at the word. Ally to the titans. Embry returned his gaze to the wolf when, out of his peripherals, he spotted the cautious hint of a smile. So, you're called Ford. He played with the new troupe of words in his mind, and found that they were quite outré in countenance. Naturally, he longed to know more.

"This Stormrift..." Embry's voice softened, as though in reverence to the scenery and the name of the pack. In truth, there was a hurricane taking place within his soul. For so long, he had neglected company. He had rejected the idea of packmates. His affairs with Jhala had taken their toll, and he was one who learned from mistakes, after all. So, why, then, did he feel that this was different?

He took one glance at the shoreline and knew that, just as it had been back near the glen, his ultimate fate sat within this Ford's paws. The difference here was that the ocean was near, and the two wolves were inevitably linked by dint of admiration for that powerful force. "If I promised an unremitting love of the sea, and through this, a similar bond for my pack - who, I know, kindle similar sentiments - what would you say to my request as to comitting myself alongside them?"