Stavanger Bay with the salt on our skin

Although the Leviathan's proximity gave her some comfort, the goings-on around her quickly ratcheted up the pup's nerves. There was a lot of noise simply by merit of such a large gathering. Then Skellige spoke, followed after by Amayo. Their words unsettled Sharkbait. She found the idea of bathing in blood appalling. What was more, when she noticed the slain sea lion pups at the Atoll's feet, something strange passed through her, a feeling totally undefinable. It caused her to shudder.

Then someone was touching her. Blue eyes flown wide in fear, Sharkbait jerked away from the stranger, then stared down at the dark red stain on her toe. The thick smell of blood surrounded her. It was neither a strange nor bothersome smell; it was the fragrance of food. But they weren't eating the carcasses. Shaking her head, Sharkbait began to creep backward away from the ritual gathering, feeling frightened and out of place.

When Amayo's cry rose up in the sky, Sharkbait startled badly. The other members of the pack were coated in blood and were disembarking from the meeting site. With her single bloodied toe, Sharkbait swiveled and ran away into the dark, her heart beating into her throat. Perhaps a smarter, braver pup would have made for the borders and promptly escaped, never to look back. But Sharkbait just made a beeline for the (semi) familiar (semi) comfort of her daddy's den.