Gyrfalcon's Keep Your confidence is cracked,

Given the time to think, to consider, @Dreven should have already come to the high priestess. But he had not. He had made her wait, and that was something Asvoria was not fond of. 

To the temple, she summoned the man.

He would answer this query, or be judged here and now. And to be judged so soon was no good thing.

Dreven heard the howl and headed towards it. He'd been at the borders as he'd been every day since their acceptance. Marking and watching.

Honestly, the scarred beast had simply not realized time had passed so quickly so intent upon guarding and patroling. But that was the problem at having been only with Atka for so long. He hadn't had to answer to anyone and almost forgotten how.

Though as the call came he realized his folly and growled to himself in frustration as he walked. If it'd been just him, he'd not care. Punish him for what she felt due, but it wasn't just him and that was where it rankled.

Red eyes sought her out, scarred head lowered in deference. He quickly averted his eyes. Tail low. Tattered ears perked to listen.

You called Priestess? deep rumble of voice answered.

Dreven came hurriedly, knocking upon her door.

A beast; a giant; a warrior, and yet, he submitted before her — a priestess; holy; revered... or so soon she would be.

I did. A slow nod, followed by a wave of her tail, gesturing for him to come forth and sit.

The clan grows. But as it does so, it cannot be allowed for many to walk without a path to follow. For then what was their purpose here? One would either learn, teach, or serve those that did so by some means.

Tell me, Dreven. What path do you envision for yourself? Whether that path was drawn here, or elsewhere.

Dreven moved into the area. And settled his tail wound around his scarred paws and legs and he waited, tattered ears moving to and fro. She spoke and he sought to listen.

I have done many things in my life time, mostly violent. But i could use those lessons, many of which I wear to keep the land and the wolves inside protected.

He was not a holy man, wouldn't make a holy man. And he refused to serve any wolf ever again. Would he protect them, treat them well, listen to his leaders absolutely. But he would never be a slave again.

It wasn't difficult to imagine that this might be his answer. He held the air, physicality, and demeanor of a warrior. So how could he serve as anything but this?

If this is your wish, you will then be of the Vǫrn. Trained warriors within Hljóðrfell. You do not seem to be an inexperienced warrior, so I will not force you to endure an apprenticeship. Instead, you will be titled as Hermaðr. The base title for a warrior. Prove to me your strength, skill, and loyalty—as well as to the gods— and you may soon see yourself in a higher position.

Had she seen him mere months ago, she'd have thought him different. Harsh and unyielding, Atka had tempered some of his sharper edges. That and not having to fight for his life always. It was a different place he was in now.

HE dipped his head. Very well. I will prove it. Then he gave a full bodied smile, eyes twinkling for just a minute. The handsome part of him that he showed on occasion, dipping through the scars. Though he quickly pressed it back and shifted. His thoughts going to Atka. He wanted to tell her of this news.

This role given to him was accepted; done so with grace and respect.

I will prove it.

Asvoria smiles at this. I have faith that you will. But only time would tell the truth of this.

If there is nothing else, you may go. She would not keep him long. Not if it was necessary to do so.

He dipped his head. Gave his goodbyes and went in search of his snow. Excited to tell her he had been given a job. So she could stay here. He'd been a little worried about it.