Stavanger Bay that you steal from me the sorrow that i've earned

His injury aside, the travel was easy enough to the beast, as he was accustomed to taking many different paths. Were it not for the deviated pupil in one of his eyes, they could have moved at a much faster pace—although he was quick to note the manner in which his lord observed the terrain, and how he appeared to be smitten with it.

Tetsubo had no opinion either way. Land was land.

It was a rarity for him to be by the seaside though—and other than his spontaneous arrival upon the sand, he had not seen the ocean during his previous travels. The boy was not so fixated upon it. Rather, it took concentration for him not to side-step off of the path nor to lose pace with Skellige. He tried squinting at first, then closing his one eye, as it was a useless organ for the time being—producing an irregular image of the world as if staring at a mirror covered in condensation after a good shower. Everything was fuzzy on one side. Fuzzy and bright.

When his lord paused, he was swift to do the same. All he was required to do was sit and wait, to be tended to by whatever passed as a isha in this foreign place. Skellige's voice rang out through the trees then, and as it petered out to silence, Tetsubo stood in wait.