Ravensblood Forest shark bait

Crowell drew closer, the stench of his breath curling in the narrow space between them and soon his shadow dwarfed the Captain altogether. The rogue was their strongest fighter, the only man who'd beat him here upon Murkwood's ground, loath as he was to admit it. "Aye," eyes narrowed in disgust as a scaly, greasy nose, made contact with his own. "Ye'd make a fine boats'n. Or gunner, even." 

Wasted potential, perhaps, though Nox wasn't keen on letting just anyone climb their ranks without good reason. "Takes more than that though." A breathy snort, spider-legs carrying him away from the rookie as he circled back to the clearing's middle. "Takes trust. Respect - an' not just from me."

If Crowell could prove he'd left the life of a cutthroat rogue behind, perhaps the Captain would be more inclined to consider. "Not tryna catch ye out," and truly, he wanted to let the man's expertise shine, "just want t'be sure I'm givin' power to tha right wolves."