Sawtooth Spire I can't get you out from under my veins

In spite of Melkor's halfway introduction, the she-wolf still glared at her. Quell scrunched her face, unsure what she'd done to deserve that look, when it occurred to her: it was what she hadn't done that likely irked the woman. Without hesitation, the adolescent not only dropped to the ground, she gladly rolled onto her back to expose her pale underbelly, legs kicking absently at the air as she cheekily replied, "Submission." Then, more sincerely: "Sorry 'bout that, ma'am."

Flipping right side up again, Q stayed low to the ground and offered up a real answer. "I was searching for big game for a pack called Seabolt," she told the truth, well aware that her abrupt decision to abandon mission and pack alike probably looked bad. It felt bad, though not so much that it would change her mind. Quell liked Seabolt well enough but this was her father.

She drew in a breath and continued. "I still haven't found it," she admitted, "but I found you. I haven't been with family since..." Q couldn't quite remember, actually, and the old head injury definitely didn't help there. That made her wonder whether her inability to actually participate in big game hunts would hurt her chances at acceptance, along with her evident disloyalty. Melkor might be her father, yet she did not simply assume he would look past these flaws.

In fact, he wanted to know what skills she had on offer. Quell knew she had to make a strong case here. "I'm really good at hunting small game. I'm a pretty good tracker," despite the evidence to the contrary, "and I've done some scouting too." The youth paused to think, then realized she'd forgotten to include, "Ah, fishing!" That was mostly thanks to Frolic, who wasn't present. She should probably mention him. "And I have a pet otter and big dick energy," Quell concluded.