The Sentinels a winged victory for the sullen
stormblessed
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All Welcome 
 

What use was he if he could not find the man who had harmed one of his own? His search had gone stale with the change in the weather and the addition of snow to their lands. A few inches had gone a long ways. Those he had passed along the coast had not suited the description that she had given him. The only one who had been close had been the sweet boy called Blossom, and the titan knew that such a creature could not have been capable of the crime. Ford had been left to guard their borders and chase who he could from the neighboring woods. He did not know why his mother's former home had such an attraction to it, but he was still protective of the wood. They still had not officially claimed the bay, and he felt that they were growing close to winter; it would only get harder without the numbers that they needed.

 he titan roamed through the wood with his head low and his nostrils flared to capture scent. Snow flurried down around him and sprinkled his coat with white flecks. He already wished to turn around and return to the sea. The water called to him and tried to lure him home, but he did what he could to ignore it. When his search had been completed, he would go back to relay his victory. Though he had not been a true comfort for Dalia, he knew that his strength in battle would allow him to offer her some peace of mind... No matter how minute. 

The snap of a twig caused his head to rise upward, and his ears to cup forward. The wind rushed through the decrepit forest, but he could see no figure. A feeling of unease washed through him, and he did what he could to turn it away. Such things had no place in his figure. He was a titan, after all. The lands he passed had belonged to his blood. And the stories of spirits that his mother had told did not sway him. With that, the warhound continued on.
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there's a part of him that knows he's been here before, though that part is long-buried under thick scar tissue and inaccessible to him by now; still, the familiarity prickles at him in a distant sort of way. he thinks he can hear the song again now — for the first time since meeting @Tack. his friend is tucked between his shoulder blades now, quiet for once. maybe sleeping. he wonders if he could hear the music, too, if he roused him. but he's too distracted following the faint sound to act on the thought — distracted enough to place a paw carelessly once again, the same one he'd twisted not so long ago. this time his error is much tamer; nothing more than the snapping of a twig, though he overreacts for a moment anyway, remembering the last time he'd slipped up in a similar fashion.

he sucks in a breath, pausing and taking a second to assure himself he hasn't injured anything this time. the brief silence is enough to take notice of the rustling of another wolf traveling through the forest, surely not far. his attention is redirected there with little hesitation, ears perking as he glances around. he doesn't see the figure at first, so he takes several tentative steps in what he thinks is the right direction, chuffing uncertainly to announce his presence. maybe it's ghosts, some tiny buried part of him murmurs, and he shivers a little. a few more steps, though, and he does catch sight of someone — a dark wolf, formidably built from what he can see. a little intimidating, truth be told, but he feels inexplicably drawn to the stranger. he chuffs again, only a touch more confident than the first time, and stops where he is.
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The sound of a stranger reached him before he caught sight of the golden clad figure. For a moment, he'd bristled and lowered his skull to protect his throat. When the second chuff was issued, he forced himself to relax. The moon glittered overhead, and he thought the coloration of the stranger was remarkable. It seemed as though the other was cloaked in light from the sun, and the titan wondered if this was the type of spirit his mother had told him of. It would have made sense how she could have spoken so fondly of them - if they appeared as bright and ethereal as this one. It was not until the stranger drew closer that the warhound was able to collect a scent. Still a stranger, but one of flesh and bone. With this, Ford allowed the fur along his back to rest as well as it could. He created the image of a welcoming thing. 

You spooked me, the hound admitted in a smoky tone that reflected good humor and amusement. With a careful smile, the titan roamed the figure of the golden boy with his gaze before settling on his face. It did not seem as though the stranger had any harmful intentions. Perhaps it's the setting, he ventured with a short gesture of his muzzle to their surroundings. The wood was not truly frightening, but Ford felt as though he needed to excuse his initial reaction. He was about maintaining the appearance of a good man, whether that was truthful or not.
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the stranger's initial reaction sets him a little on edge, and instinctively he lowers his own posture, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible. but the dark male seems to relax fairly quickly, to the golden mayfair's relief. the sound of his voice almost startles him, but he's sort of glad that he's spoken; he can't really think of a good alternative. he returns the smile, his own slightly apologetic, and nods slightly. he can see how the forest might make a wolf uncomfortable, though it doesn't bother him. maybe it's that strange sense of familiarity — or maybe he simply feels kinship with the ruined place. his gaze wanders from the stranger for a moment, then drifts back, tail swishing idly. though he lacks the words to further their conversation, his expression says plenty; there's warmth and curiosity in his argent eyes, and maybe a sort of expectancy. who are you? hangs silently in the air, coasting for now at the front of the endless wave of questions he'll never get to ask.
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There was an air of expectation about the brutal warhound. When the stranger seemed to take notice and react without sound, Ford narrowed his brows and searched the features of the golden figure for a way to understand. It was not until the other lifted his gaze upward and latched his argent sights with the titan's that he realized his companion was a mute of sorts. While that might have been difficult to some, the Mayfair-Cairn felt a breath of relief slip through his muzzle. A ghostly smile curled the edges of his lips upward as he returned his mismatched gaze to the other wolf and held them intently. It would have been a great deal more challenging if he had not bolstered his skill in reading others. Instead, it felt as though it was a way for him to test himself.

“I'm Ford, and I'm assuming you can't offer your own name to me,” the savage creature offered him with a careful dipping of his muzzle. Though stern in his features, there was a kindness to his posture; his tail wavered to allow the other a sense of peace. “Would you be at all offended if I were to give you one?” Surely, it would not have been anything like the name that had been given to the golden boy at birth, but the warhound felt as though he needed to address his silent companion somehow.
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there are several reactions he's come to expect from strangers around the point his muteness registers, falling neatly into little categories that tell him what kind of wolf he's dealing with; ford's seems to sit somewhere outside these lines, and it makes the golden mayfair uncomfortable as much as it intrigues and relieves him. the feeling is ultimately not an unpleasant one, so he relaxes under the man's mismatched gaze, ears perking at his question. no one has ever offered to give him a name before — the idea appeals to him more than he'd realized. a faint smile pulls at his features and he shakes his head without a second thought, eyes a little brighter as he considers the possibilities.
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The warhound watched as his silent companion seemed to take in the words that were offered. His initial assumption seemed to have been right; the fellow couldn't talk. That didn't bother him as much as it should have, as he didn't see there being any difficult conversation that they would find themselves in. The smile of encouragement was a good sign that the buttery-colored stranger was not at all perturbed by the premise of receiving a makeshift name from the titan in the woods. The skeletal wolf furrowed his brow for a moment, drawing on what would suit the mysterious figure, when he realized where they were standing seemed as though it would provide a decent moniker on its own.

“You know, my mother used to tell me stories of this forest when I was just a young boy. She said that there were good spirits that roamed here... before the fire took it, that is,” he offered some background with a thoughtful frown that drew his dark lips downward. “It seems only fitting that I would find a mute in the ashes.” Then, hoping that he would not offend his companion, Ford curled his mouth into a ghostly smile. It was almost surreal that he would have crossed paths with someone of that sort. Deirdre would have spoken kindly of the boy, he was certain.

“I suppose I'll call you Sentinel.”
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his ears pull forward as ford reveals his history with the forest, unable to discern the source of his own investment but hardly caring to linger on it. he's fascinated with the idea of spirits roaming the woodland by the sea; the image painted in his mind is one of beauty and magic and life, a stark contrast from the desolate scene they've been placed in now. he quickly understands that this forest is to be the basis for his new moniker, and the realization brings with it a strange, satisfying mixture of joy and melancholy. sentinel, the stark-eyed man says, and it feels... right. he likes it. his smile grows, tail wagging faster, and he stretches into a slow, deep bow to show his pleasure.
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The pale figure – no longer a stranger – seemed pleased with the moniker that had been granted to him. Ford dipped his head gingerly at the spreading smile and flagging tail on the mute's body. In many ways, he almost preferred the interaction with Sentinel. He had done well to read the body language of others to determine how they felt and how those feelings influenced their actions. With the boy who could not talk, it seemed as though that was naturally his state of existence... and it did well to boost the warhound's ego.

With a thoughtful frown on his dark lips, Ford peered at his newfound companion and canted his skull to the side. “Have you got a home for yourself?” the titan inquired. He wondered if the boy had already pledged himself to someone, or if he was simply existing out there... doing what he could to survive.
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it's rare that he finds a wolf so gracious about his muteness; he decides he likes ford, though there is a lingering prickle of discomfort at the back of his mind. it's easy to dismiss the feeling, distracted as he is watching the man's handsome features pull into a thoughtful frown. the question surprises him a little, and it shows on his face. he shakes his head, curious now and, as usual, silently cursing his inability to speak. that ford is better company for a mute than most is comforting, but nothing quite soothes the ache of his own silence.
stormblessed
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The mute was intent to hold tight to Ford's expressions. He could not help but to notice the way the other man's eyes clung to his own, following the curling of each expression that passed along his inky lips. It was not unnerving for him, but an interest. When Sentinel shook his head in response to the question that had been posed, the titan was left to wonder if it was suitable to offer a home among the wolves of Stormrift. Surely, the pale boy could have found a great deal of purpose there. They would have been able to help him grow and succeed in spite of his lack of words.

With a decided sigh that filled the air in a great plume of his breath, Ford offered a small smile to his silver-eyed companion. “Through the trees there, my family and I have sought to claim the bay,” the warhound motioned with a gentle swing of his muzzle – past the ashen decay of the woodland around them. “Should you wish, you may join us. We will aid you through any trial you meet; our goals are to grow... together.”
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he waits for the other to speak with ears perked and eyes shining, expression brightening when he finally does. the invitation is unexpected, though it's far from unwelcome. his gaze follows ford's gesture, lingering for a moment on the trees beyond the man before returning to him with no small amount of warmth and gratitude. he nods slowly, deciding immediately that he wishes to follow him; perhaps it's a foolish decision, born of some pathetic combination of loneliness and infatuation, but he's in no mood for things like logic and caution. what ford offers is a chance to build a life; a chance to belong somewhere — and isn't that what he wants?
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ily i'm gonna wrap this up and archive it so i can add it to our list of formation threads.... aaaand make u a new one that u can take all the time u want responding to <3
There was a moment in which the dark sea wraith was not certain if his pale companion would accept the offer on the table. It would have been fine if he did not – Ford had already been denied by several others. He wanted only those who wished to be part of his brood. It was a place for those who desired a test of their abilities, and he was there to inspire them to achieve monumental things. Once upon a time, his father had envisioned an army of alliances. That was all good and well, but the Mayfair-Cairn was far more intrigued by the possibility of achieving what Skellige couldn't have.

When Sentinel nodded his head in agreement, Ford allowed a gentle smile to curve his dark lips upward. He closed his eyes for a moment to revel in the acceptance of his offer. “We are glad to have you, then,” the titan remarked in a tone that he did well to show was grateful. “Come, let me show you to your new home.” With that, the brute directed himself toward the bay and the call of the waves against the shore. He moved with Sentinel to show him all of the beautiful areas of the territory and only released the pale fellow when he felt he had done a suitable job of it.