It seemed I was not the only male that was drawn to the wizened call of Matthias, my gaze turning onto the big brute who shows up with a smirk. Vincent, he says, and I flick and ear towards him. "Jackdaw," I answer with my same suave personality. Now all we needed was to the know the name of the aged male before us. I would bet he was a warrior in his day, my eyes taking in his roughened visage. This could possibly be a boring call that I had answered or the summons I had been in need of. A purpose to this existence - not that I needed much of one anyways. Still, having something to do kept me entertained. The sound of rustling, very slight, catches my attention as my ears flick back and I lift my head slowly into the air, nostrils flaring to scent the wind. My movements were not altogether noticeable, simply as if I had scented a lovely doe in the distance, but I catch a whiff of a wolf and immediately leap up, spinning around with my tail straight out and eyes scanning the plains with a keenness that Israfael cannot escape. I am a master tracker, after all, I must prove my skills to everyone anytime I get a chance.

It is in that same moment that the older male (I suspect he did not care for my age comment, which only brightened my spirits for I knew a way to pester him already) turns to look down on the child. I huff then, a deep-throated chuckle at the ineptitude of the child and abruptly seat myself again, watching as Matthias moves to the side to leave room for the sprite. "You might as well come out, thunder foot, everyone in the valley could hear you," I tease, my eyes crinkling in humor as I glance at Vincent. My ears flick to attention when the self-appointed leader of this meeting (he had called it together, after all, so he was given such a title easily enough), begins his pretty little speech.

Work. I do not hide the curiosity and hunger on my face as I look at him. While I was not a youthful sprite myself I was still younger than them and I had no qualms about hiding myself like others. I was who I was, sometimes crass, sometimes smooth, always smart. The term mercenary has my lips turning up into a wicked grin. What a perfect label for me, I think, flicking a glance at Vincent and at the spot where the boy might have moved to. "I have nothing better to do. Besides, I have a keen nose and I bet I could out-track any of you," I boast, lifting my head higher in a proud manner. "I should like to know the name of our leader, however, if we are to band together. And any rules you might have hidden in that gray brain of yours," I say. You see, I wasn't just a pompous fool as sometimes others might think. I just didn't always go about things in a direct manner.