Gyrfalcon's Keep Among the Gyrs

Solveig huffed at the name she was given, lifting her chin slightly and giving the woman a slightly incredulous look. One side of her lips drew up into a droll smile, and one eyebrow dipped down. "Hahah! You are pulling my leg, ya?" She asked, before she gestured to the short mountain, whose apex peeked out above the treeline. "They live here, gyrfalcons; many of them." She explained. Coincidences such as this pleased Solveig very much; she would interpret Greyfalcon's arrival as a good omen from the Old Gods. 

Being asked about her role also pleased her. "It is a good life," She said. "This pack has...two and a half moons? Here, anyway. We come from another land- but left because it changed, and we wished to keep our ways." She said. "So we are small, still; there are not many yet in our Vorn, but we will grow with time." She said. "What roles suit you best?" She asked, then, curious what Greyfalcon might want to take on should she decide to join them.

“I am afraid I am not pulling your leg,” she smiled with a chuckle, “back in Canada I would hear their calls and they were often seen flying high or perched on nearby peaks, thus my namesake.”

This pack seemed to have quite the rich history for being fairly small and new. Ranks….? As her home pack was quite small she did not understand the importance of ranks, but she knew where her skills lay. “I am a good huntress as well as a guardian,” she said, wondering whether there was a role having to do with either of those things, “I am also fond of reconnaissance and scouting. Able to travel for a decent time in search of good hunting and resources.”
Also, a pack big or small benefits from the collaboration the members together as a whole. This she knew no matter what.
(@Solvieg)