[b]Scrapbeak[/b]

[indent]Scrapbeak looked over the map. He wasn’t used to all this - group meetings, extensive planning, taking orders. He wasn’t averse to any of it, he was just more accustomed to being on his own, doing smaller things in simpler manners. But he wasn’t a merc on his own anymore, he’d signed up for the Pride’s ranks, and he had to do what was required of him.

It had been two weeks since his acceptance into the company, and he still didn’t feel confident in offering his word during these planning phases. A negative feeling he was unfamiliar with, and still mulling over in his head. He had, for now, resigned himself to just being available to put wherever was seen plausible.

[i]“I’m… not very good with groups. Planning things. Talking. I’ll just do whatever you need me to.”[/i]

He’d said this to Bradshaw some few days ago, away from everyone else. He wanted to be open about his shortcomings, at the very least, to his new superior. It was still somewhat baffling that the Captain had let Scrapbeak into the Pride’s ranks - but he wasn’t about to argue any. Just do his best, like always, however much that best paled in comparison to some of the others present at the table.

He could shoot. He could climb, though his peg leg might make that hard to believe for folks - he knew how to make it work, thanks to a little tool. He told the Captain all this and hoped it would be sufficient. Whatever he had didn’t matter as long as he could get the job done, he liked to believe. Hopefully the rest would agree.

So he stayed quiet. Waited for the plan to get worked out. Ready to do whatever he was ordered to.[/indent]