The Sentinels caves

There was a very careful way in which Ford concealed the boiling anger that had made a home inside of him. It sat beside his looming pride and had created a creature of dangerous capability, hidden behind a facade of calm and rational thoughtfulness. In his youth, Ford had been an entirely different man. He had been more like his father than any of his siblings, and with that had been a great weight that needed to be carried. When he had learned how foolish it was to pursue a life like the one Skellige had lived, the titan had created his own persona. In it, he had found a great deal of success.

The girl stated that she did not know much about their home. She mentioned that Elixir was dealing with personal matters, which Ford made note of. The hollow glimmer of his gaze rested on her features as she spoke; he learned the way in which her expressions changed with each new word. Still, it was not enough for him to continue confidently. She seemed respectful and mysterious, in her own right. The warhound wished to strip away that mystery so he would never struggle to speak to her.

“First, tell me about yourself,” he instructed her with a small nod. “Stormrift is a place for many different types of wolf. I should like to know more about you so that I might better explain what your path would look like here.” He realized that it was not always fruitful to offer the entire spiel that he had concocted. Not everyone reacted to it in the same way, he'd come to discover. Ford was not foolish enough that he would not have noticed that he had drawn more to his hold with personal connection instead of an overall synopsis. Each conversation had to pertain to the beast that he was speaking with; there was no other way.