Stavanger Bay blackwood farm

The sound of the sea had taken her far away, so far past the dark male who felt somehow responsible for her and her young even though he had put up no resistance to casting her out. Far from the white female who was so jealous of her young that for a fleeting moment she'd considered striking the witch down and stealing her cubs. Far from the absence of Lasher, far from his precious pale daughter and her infallible sense of good, far from everything. The tide rose and swept her worries away bit by bit and the witch was pleased to convene with nature. It was recharging, in a sense, and the pale woman closed her eyes and let herself be carried far away. 

A scent approaching made her return to focus, her gaze turning to view the approaching male. She lowered her head respectfully, silver eyes flashing for a moment in the silver rays of the moon. "No, sir, just listening to the sea." She said quietly. "I apologize - I didn't realize someone was setting up camp along the shores. I've always found it so peaceful here." Rowan explained. She met his eyes for a moment, offering the smallest smile. "I'm Rowan."

Before long another figure approached and Rowan offered the same differed politeness. "Good evening."