The Sentinels no roots

His middle name would have been a better fit for his nature, he was certain. Though the stories that were told of Lasher Mayfair were fond ones that his mother carried around in her heart. The inky wraith did not believe that he would have done the name justice, or that he could have lived up to the way that the man had been. Instead, the titan had sought to make a name for himself with his own skills and characteristics. He still carried the name of his grandfather with great care. Ford might have been a savage creature, but he did not wish to dishonor his mother, or the memory of her father.
 
The wolf Embry spoke again, phrasing his query in a peculiar manner. The titan could not help but to smile softly at the request. Surely, he would not have allowed the sea-dweller onto his beach if he had not thought of offering him a place among his ranks. There was a great protection that rested on the bay; not just anyone was permitted to enter. The sandy-colored male should have felt fortunate for this.
 
“We would be pleased to have you,” the warhound answered with a firm nod. He turned his mismatched gaze onto the newcomer with a thoughtful expression and hollow eyes. “Welcome to the rift.” The beach was just as much Embry’s to protect as it was the rest of the pack. Without the aid of them, it would have been a sad sight. The brute knew that he had been fortunate in his members. All of them were vastly different from each other, but they brought a great benefit to the pack, nonetheless.