jackpot.

[Skoll]

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The bronze werewolf flicked an ear(a shrug, for all intents and purposes). There wasn't anything terribly wrong in his life right now...he had been invited back to Storm if he wanted back, though the Gamma would oppose that, he was sure. Either way, without a pack to defend actively, without a border to survey, he only had to watch out for himself, and that was much easier than keeping vigil over miles of land. Other than the fact that he wasn't eating as well, he didn't have much to complain about. "It is much the same with me. I've received a few injuries with some of the residents here since the last we met, which has made hunting more difficult, but I'm doing alright. Bleeding Souls is a nice place to live most of the time, and without other professionals looking to carve me up to earn their meat, I don't have to worry about my own safety much if I keep to myself." He wasn't sure how true that was, exactly. He didn't want to worry the girl...but luck could make any battle go either way. The Lykoi-son, who he had recently learned bore the name Gabriel, wasn't new to battle, and would know how to push the advantage if luck favored him. Skoll was easily the more experienced of the two, he suspected that he had undergone a more precise training process, and probably practiced more often, since very few canines--whether they were good fighters or not--practiced alone each morning. That was to be expected, though...the standard method of fighting, with tooth and fang on four legs, was impossible to do without a partner; he was fortunate to have been taught motions he could go through alone. Despite all that, a stray stone, a fallen branch, could trip even the best warrior, taking them off balance long enough for a sharp opponent to go in for the kill. Still, as long as bad luck didn't factor in, and he didn't go looking for trouble, he felt that he was safe enough here. "Well, most planters I've met used the sun," he said, brows furrowed. He looked up at the ruinous monolith she had just emerged from, crossing his arms as he tilted his head sideways. "You know, though, humans didn't have pelts, and I've heard in tales that they wouldn't eat anything that hadn't been charred by fire...I'm sure that between those two things, they needed some sort of heating device in their dens. Those they lived in were certainly massive enough to fit whatever they needed." He turned to look at her, wondering what she thought about the concept. If they ascertained that a heating device must be located inside--either for food or protection against cold for the poor furless creatures--then the only obstacle left would be to identify what it looked like, and to find it amidst whatever else was inside. ~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.

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