Ankyra Sound every tomb, every sea, spit the bones from your teeth

the man who approaches is heavily scarred. some are fresh and garish, others long faded and seeking to disappear beneath his fur. far more than she has, and she doubts that there is a part of his pelt which has not been marked by some wound. still, when he pauses her gaze shifts to his before dropping, a simple respect.  "cassiopeia." she offers easily, adding, "I want to join you." she's blunt in her intent, she would hardly waste her time here should their ranks be full.