Neverwinter Forest said he was a sailing man

The question was not unexpected. This was a more common vocation in the lands that he'd come from, but he'd traveled plenty since he was a cub. There were still more places out there where bounty hunters were an abomination, and by this wolf's tone, he wondered if he'd come from one of them.

"For whoever's causing trouble," he replied, his own voice light and mild. He could see that the man was struggling with the concept, if only because it was something he'd seen before. Still, he was quiet a little longer, murmuring only, "Not so new as you'd think," before he allowed the other man to finish the thought.

He mused a little longer before coming to a stop and planting his ass in the detritus. His tail swished once in invitation, but whether or not Luhtar joined him, he saw fit to begin explaining:

"Safety is my vocation," he said, his voice still mild and even. "Deserters? Runaway brides? There's a market for it, but that ain't my bag. I hunt cub-killers. Mad wolves. Cats with a grudge. I've sat sentry waiting for raiders to show up. Last year, I spent three months guarding a yearling princess while someone else hunted down her would-be assassin."

It was the most he'd spoken at one time since his conversation with Solharr. He could feel himself running out of social energy, but if Catamaran could say one thing about himself, he'd say that he kept going until he couldn't anymore, and then he kept going a little longer.

"I'm not in it for the excitement," he went on, quieter. "Just how things ended up. That's what happens to kids, where I come from. The packs out there don't take loners. You get turned out at six months or so and you learn to make the best of it. Or you don't. And you die."

He stood, stretching just to work the tiny bit of tension he'd gathered back out of his system.

"A winter in one place sounds nice," he admitted. "Even if it ain't as busy as I'm used to."