As it turned out, Ronan did have his methods.
Something that he had in the ready, for a while already.
Part of his plan, oddly enough, focused around dogs.
Willam remembered well the day Ronan sought out the shepherd from the foothills of Royce lands...
An old man, weather-beaten as cured leather, who claimed to have a bond with his dog stronger than with his own kin.
Ronan had sat with him for hours, asking after every detail... how the dog learned the whistle calls, how it protected sheep from wolves and even shadowcats... how it circled, pressed, and steered animals without ever biting except in dire need.
Herding dogs were clearly doing more than just following orders.
They watched the flock's edges, kept stragglers from wandering off, and shifted as one with the shepherd's steps.
They nipped at heels only to correct, never to harm. They remembered paths better than most men and could turn a whole herd with nothing more than a shout or snap.
Loyal, tireless, clever… born to read both land and livestock alike.
And Ronan took all that down in pages upon pages of neat paper.
As he always did... he pored over those notes for many days presumably... and by the end of it, he had what he boldly called a manual for training shepherding dogs.
To share for other sheep herders to learn while Ronan himself was already able to implement such knowledge with uncanny proficiency.
But he did not stop there.
He found a hunter next, one whose dog could follow a week-old scent through forest, stream, and stone.
Again came the questions, again the writing, again the poring through those texts for so many nights... as Ronan most likely worried over its every detail like a dog with a bone.
From this, he fashioned something like the sheperding dog book before it... and using that, he tasked certain dog lovers of the Order into a team he named the "K9 unit". Or was it "canine unit"?
Either way, Willam still thought he could have simply called them muttbunch or houndskeeper like any normal man of Westeros.
Even so, the K9 unit and their dogs led the way into the mountains, noses down, tails sharp... guiding the Order of the Bronze to any sign of tribe or trail.
But even that was only the beginning. Or just part of it.
For they were not the first to use elite hunting dogs in this kind of endeavor... and those prior failed with just this.
So, Ronan paired the dogs with birds.
Falcons. Hawks. Even bloody eagles...
Leading the falcons was Captain America.
For the hawks, it was a hawk named Dove.
While the eagles had a so-called prime eagle that Ronan named Eagly.
Regardless of those odd names, each had a horde of full-winged creatures that circled above the men's line of movement.
With their shrill calls ringing off the cliffs... guiding the men toward movement on the slopes or figures slipping between the trees.
It was falconry, hawking and eagle hunting... but twisted into some new form that only Ronan seemed to invest in.
Instead of just hunting them as prey, the birds were now fully used to actually hunt people.
Spotting any other mountain dwellers with a bird's eye view that was hard to match... and conveniently convey that information with their natural call.
Willam could scarcely believe it when Ronan explained he'd simply found a bird-trainer and "expanded the man's notes" like usual.
For there was something else at work here... something Willam could not name and mayhaps he was better off not knowing.
But then Ronan, gods save him, spoke of improving the Vale's raven-posts by replacing them entirely.
He claimed that either messenger hawks or messenger eagles could intercept enemy ravens in flight... tearing them down before they reached their roosts. Using that intercepted message to one's advantage.
Dishonorable was what Willam muttered it to be... but when it works... it probably will...
Making for effective tactic of war that Willam could not argue with.
And he could only pity any enemy who relied on ravens still, for Ronan meant to make their skies a one-sided battlefield.
Even sea eagles, he said, could serve the future fleet... loosed as living signals, each bird marked to tell the captains when to turn, to close, or to retreat.
Willam thanked the gods for Ronan's curious madness, for without it... Runestone might never muster such strange and potent knowledge.
But when they came upon a deep and shadowed cave, and Ronan... calm as a maester in his study... let loose a cluster of carried rats to scout its holes and hidden ways…
T'was the moment Willam decided he would ask no more questions. His curious privilege as a close cousin didn't matter anymore.
For birds and dogs were one thing.
But rats? Rats!
No man should be able to command such creatures. Nor whispering anything that they can even understand.
But Willam knew well enough when to stop prying. When it became a bit too much to believe.
Whatever strange and odd talents the Young Bronze possessed, it was wiser... and safer... to let them be.
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And yes... if it's not clear just yet... something simple as sniffing dogs, trained birds, and Pied Piper shit isn't enough for the task Ronan gave himself.
The training of the K9 unit was as real as can be though... but it still needed a bit of work. Especially when he prioritized herding dogs for all the sheep stuff.
Which made all the bird stuff all the more suspicious...
Even though he actually did convene with someone who's good with birds... and he even backtracked to how the raven messaging system functioned.
But those were not enough just yet to let fly different species of conflicting birds all at once... and make them cry out whenever they see any sign or the actual presence of Vale wildlings.
So, yes... he employed another cheat to speed things along.
Cause all that toddler facade of saying "bird" whenever the falcons or ravens cried beyond the window… was obviously deep cover for something else...
The chasing of the falcon's shadow across the courtyard and whatnot... when he was but a wee little boy was a front as well.
And it all roots back to the little VR game he improvised when he was just an actual little babe...
Being a baby was just that boring as heck... and in such a circumstance where he can't do much, he found out that he actually can.
Which he figured out when a huge freaking rat closed up on his swaddled mini-form in the middle of a certain night.
And no amount of his waa-waa-ing seemed enough to scare it off or wake up his breastfeeders.
It was almost a chubby giant when compared to his little form, after all... and he didn't know whether it'll just sniff him up and shit all over him... or maybe the rat'll actually wanted a piece of juicy little him.
So, in that overthinking panic, something triggered... and before Ronan knew it... baby him had his eyes all white.
Not because he passed out... but because he actually passed his consciousness to the too-close-for-comfort rat.
Meaning that he actually "changed his skin" as a skinchanger... and literally wargin' timed. Skipping the introductory dream sequences... and jumped right away.
Which was the start of his self-made VR game that he called Reverse Ratatouille... truly exploring the crevices of Runestone, cause a persistent rat culture seemed to be a staple in Westerosi castles.
Accordingly, like all else, after the hundredth rodent warging... the page gave out rewards. In the form of an improved skill in skinchanging.
Meaning that conspicuous white eyes no more.
And the more he repeated the process... his proficiency rose and his skill got upgraded...
Obviously, given that he was a hapless baby when this all kicked off... he really grinded this magical skill to the max that he could.
Moving on from just one rat, to two rats, to multiple rats at once.
He was then eventually able to simultaneously move himself as well. Comatose be gone.
And "drats" was what he simultaneously said out... when he got spotted at times to be mingling with his rat hive.
In any case and for fun, he even made a rat king... cause that damage feedback was cut off already… due to the multi-upgrades that the ability went through.
Of course, after rats, it moved up to Stray VR... and he may have went overboard at one point... accidentally testing out the stray cat's fall negation...
And yeah... that ended badly for some cats... so the sad "meow meow ma meow" was all he could offer them.
Safe to say that familiar and familial bonding was no necessity for his version.
Which circles back to present time... where he's using multiple birds as flesh drones for his manhunt... and utilizing the familiar rats once again for cave diving.
All in all, the ability was nifty... and he can probably chalk it up to the fire in his blood being a catalyst for this First Men magic.
Even when he also awakened rune magic further down the line as well.