Stone Circle when the laurel grows heavy on your brow

a sage nod is given, of thanks, of gratitude as he is welcomed in. joining a pack not yet rooted in these wilds was a gamble, but there was a chance to grow here that a well established pack did not necessarily offer. dracarys follows his jarl over the threshold of the borders, gaze keen as it is cast over the territory that he would call home and help to build.
i come from a kingdom far north of here, icetooth fjord. it has been held by my blood for many generations, dracarys offers. my father, monterys is it's commander... the jarl in your tongue. dracarys cast his gaze to drøgur then, looking for any sign of recognition little or otherwise.