Dirk supposed that the laird had the right of it. If he’d dug too close to another they would’ve let him know, he followed Arturio’s gaze to his creation. It felt good to make something again, to be a part of something. It had been ages since Dirk had felt as though he were properly contributing to the world around him. Becoming part of a pack again would give him a purpose, it would give him the power and ability to do things that as a lone wolf were not possible. He wasn’t an entirely selfless creature and was of the opinion that no creature truly was. Some level of selfishness was required to survive, it was just that some could not learn or did not care to learn how to balance selfishness and selflessness.
”I think I did pretty good, might make it a might bigger next spring if I have to.” The memory of that snappy lass from the crags brought a smirk to his lips but he didn’t let the thought occupy him for too long. Arturio’s philosophy was a good one. It was better to do what was needed in the moment rather than fuss about whether or not it was going to piss someone off. ”Words I can live by, that’s for sure. You cannae just piss about when there’s something to be done, can ya?”
Which brought Dirk to another thing he’d been pondering since joining Asteraia and Arturio’s court. The pack was new and the wolves were few which meant there were many ranks that needed filling. As an experienced warrior it would make sense for him to seek out such a position, but from what he could tell there were also needs elsewhere. He might not be nearly as skilled but he would never be accused of laziness. ”Tell me, laird. Where do you have need of me in the pack?”
Five years old. My heart is my own. My soul is my own. I pledge my fealty to Asteraia.