He couldn't be sure if he really belonged here, but he wasn't going to let any kind of silence from the leader in his direction turn him away. As far as Solitaire was concerned, Glorall was his home until it was proven different. It would be nice to have confirmation, but for now he was simply being here and seeing how that worked out overall. So far so good, he'd even managed to get the promise of fighting lessons. The was a step up, because he felt he could always do to learn more on something that would help his survival. He was already good at hunting -- had to be to be a wanderer all this time and thrive well enough -- but fighting wasn't something he did often enough to know how he did at it.

The day had gone smoothly so far, and he had been within the confines of Glorall for it and had no qualms held against him for being there. He figured that they must have accepted him enough to be there, though how they would react to him around them personally, he had yet to find out, for most of them. And he wasn't all that nosy, just interested in being around others. The comforts of a gathering to a social animal that was just trying to re-learn how to be that among others again; it was no little thing. Not to Solitaire, who was wanting to feel like he belonged, wanting to have that pack connection that he had lacked for years. He thought he had been cheated of it as a child, as a yearling, and he wanted to set it right.

So he had made an attempt, both in being worthwhile to the pack and to learn more about how to survive here. They probably had different fighting styles, too. At least that was what he imagined, and he wasn't opposed to altering his ideas in another direction that would do him more good. He planned to stick around, to stay in Glorall with what was left of his family. That was what mattered, and if learning to fight helped in that, then Solitaire was there with full attention. Which was what he intended to give when he heard Sinclair's call. Time to get some skills. Up he lifted himself to his paws, starting off on the sandy terrian until he found that there was mixed ground where he was going.

Solitaire gave a nod to Sinclair when he spotted the male, moving ever closer until he was only a few feet away. Reporting for duty or however it went. He didn't say it, just a passing thought as he stood there. He was calm and silent during the look over, wondering what Sinclair was thinking of his build and if ti changed the kind of training that he needed to have. Solitaire had never been a warrior before; he'd had other uses from the vagabonds. Things he did not like to talk about, and it made him sometimes nervous around others. To a degree. Trust was hard to earn a great deal of the time, and Solitaire just wanted to avoid the mistakes of his childhood. He did not want to trust the wrong creature again.

With the question asked, Solitaire had to debate internally what the answer to that was for a moment. "Not an actual battle, no." He finally responded, because the little spats weren't real, and hunting was different, so he had no real experience with fighting. Nothing that would help him go very far here. He had natural instinct, yes. That genetic bit passed down from his parents, but skill was where it was at in the end. Skill he hoped to learn to defend his family and pack if he must. That was his goal; to matter, to be able to earn his spot here in Glorall. He didn't need a fancy rank or anything, but he did want to belong. More than anything right now, he wanted that.


[ male ] [ six ] [ unmated ] [ unimprinted ] [ loner ]