Ankyra Sound Sorry About your Luck Kid

You are the first in line to know. It wasn't a perfect response, but Hawkes was satisfied enough, for now. A little mystery, to keep him guessing. This guy was beyond interesting, and the pirate had always liked a bit of a challenge.  

Hawkes did not know what was in his blood. What his parents did, if they were even still alive. It was in his own nature to self-destruct, though he might try his best not to. He could only assume that it was in his parents' nature as well. 

Not a lot of pirates lived to be as old as Kingsley, Eartha, and Lynford. Only the good ones. And Hawkes was not a good pirate. All he could really do was strategize and do his best to kiss up to his superiors. For now. 

He stood still as Abaddon approached him, confident enough that he wasn't about to be killed. 

"Oh, I can assure you that I wasn't born from an intentional union, either," he informed, a soft snort escaping him. Creators was a funny way to put it - Hawkes would prefer something less involved. He wasn't a creation - he was... spawned. A brow arched and he hummed in thought, pondering over the question. "I'm looking for the pack up here. Not necessarily a personal grudge of mine, but I've got a friend who's got a bone to pick with them." It wasn't a secret - the only thing that was important was that word didn't get back to the pack themselves before Hawkes could speak to them. Abaddon didn't seem a snitch. 

A wry smirk crossed his maw as he looked around at the trees surrounding them, then scanned the ghost up and down before he made eye contact again. "Is there something wrong with enjoying the view?" he questioned, quirking a brow. He rarely came out with a flirtatious remark, but he figured his companion could take it. Would probably enjoy it, even.