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When he had joined this pride nearly a year ago, Phosphor had just grown into his mane and had left his old pride behind after it had dissolved. Since then he had grown into his new home, new title, and new position of power. He went on many Vikings, made new friends, tested those that wanted to become Stormborn themselves, and had even taken a few Thralls under his wing. Yes, life here fit Phosphor very well. It was only recently that he realized one more Viking would make him available to the title of Captain, and once he had undergone the adventure into the rogue lands, he decided it might be a good time to acquire the new rank. He didn't have a band of lions ready to follow him into battle yet, but he was sure he could work up to that.

But, before he could get any further in his thinking, he knew he had to get approval from the Warlord first. So he had gone on a little Viking within the pride to find the elusive Ruzski, bringing along a few special trinkets he had found in his Vikings to decorate himself with and the Warlord, if he so pleased. When he came to the den of the Warlord he was pleased to see he was home, but rather than simply approach, he stood back a good distance so as not to disrespect their leader and called out.

"Some day I will kill you, Warlord Ruzski," he said cheerfully in the standard Stormborn greeting. "Might I have a word?"

Phosphor stood up a bit straighter as Ruzski emerged from his den, giving the other male a wide smile. There were those that thought his cheerfulness was off-putting, but they certainly weren't one to tell him.

"I'm not too sure if there's anything other than consulting you on this matter, but I've been out on the required amount of Vikings to change my rank from Reaver to Captain and I was hoping for your approval to begin getting a band of lions together."

It would be a small one, certainly. He knew there were very popular lions out there that had massive groups of Reavers that followed him, but he'd be happy with just a pawful.

Phosphor waited with the grin still on his face, not at all minding the silence that stretched between them for a few seconds. Once the question was asked, though, he nodded and eagerly jumped into a tale of his last outing.

"Well, it began rather strangely. A storm had kicked up and the rain was driving so hard it was difficult to see. I noticed a white blob through the rain, though, and it turned out to be a very fluffy lion. He didn't seem to be from these parts, more suited to colder climates with all that fur. He wasn't carrying anything of note and I have more than enough Thralls already, so rather than try to bring him back here I showed him to a cave where he could wait out the storm. But then we pressed on and after we cleared the storm we came across a small group of traveling cheetahs. One of them seemed to be a merchant of some kind because she was carrying lots of crafted items, like this."

He paused in his tale to pull one of the items he had brought along off his back, nudging it forward for the Warlord to inspect. It was a necklace - for a cheetah - made of stones and baubles and bones that would be better suited to be tied into a mane or used as a tail or paw cuff.

"We did raid them, but they ran off after dropping their things."

Ruzski's interest in his story didn't bother Phosphor at all. In fact, he was quite flattered that the Warlord actually appeared interested in what he was saying. He had heard stories of the Warlord before Ruzski, and they hadn't been very kind. This male seemed like he was genuinely interested in the well being of his pride and those that lived within it.

"That's a great idea," he said with a nod, his mind already racing with ideas. Perhaps that cave could come in handy later. His mind wasn't working as a Captain's yet, but given time he'd certainly come up with a good use for it.

"I suppose it's only fitting for the Warlord to come up with ideas like that on the fly," he added, a little chuckle in his voice. "I guess I know where my first Viking with my group of Reavers will be...once I get some that is."

He tilted his head a bit, his blue-green eyes shining with delight, waiting for Ruzski to ask him another question or perhaps send him on his way with his blessing and the new rank.

"Mm...no, not really," Phosphor said after a bit of a pause. He had met some very nice and very strong lions in his time here, but their personalities rarely meshed with his own. Lots of them were the typical Stormborn where as he was more subdued, willing to let lions go rather than try to bring them back into servitude. He'd recruited a lot of lions by accident while out in the rogue lands, simply by talking them into coming back. A lot of them had joined as Freeborn, though. He had different priorities than most others in the pride, it seemed, and he wanted a few like-minded lions around him.

"I didn't realize I was eligible to become a Captain, actually, until I overheard a few other lions speaking about getting enough Vikings to become one. I asked them how many that requirement was, they told me five, and I said oh, I just need one more." Certainly not the typical way to go about becoming a Captain, but Phosphor was anything but typical.

"I think I'll be a good one, though," he added, not wanting to seem too out there to the Warlord. He hadn't been born and raised here, but he had taken to it like a fish to water. He was cheerful and a bit odd, but he could fight with the best of them and it was a sorry day for anyone who crossed him. He could hold a grudge and in his old pride had been trained to pushing those less than worthy. He knew ways to make others squirm and plead for mercy that didn't always just involve tooth and nail.

"I'll keep my eyes and ears open for quieter Freeborn that might get passed over by other captains. Sometimes it's good to have others around you that like to think before they leap." It wouldn't do to have a captain that preferred to talk, then attack leading a group of Reavers that liked to attack and never talk.

"Oh, it's not?" Phosphor said, tilting his head a bit. He hadn't been one to question it, of course, as the lions he had overheard had been in the pride longer than he, but he made a mental note not to spread the word along.

"That does make more sense," he added thoughtfully. Just because someone went out on a certain number of Vikings didn't mean they were fit to be a Captain. When Ruzski congratulated him, though, he smiled again and lifted his head a bit higher.

"Thank you, Warlord," he said with a little bob, chuckling at the traditional saying. He nodded in agreement and turned, a new pep in his step. Captain Phosphor...it had a nice ring to it, didn't it? He trotted off back home, eager to tell Ashta the good news.