Stavanger Bay as i climb into the skies

Troubled, but surrounded by what made him whole, Smokestep basked in the refreshing lull of the ocean water until it had grown too frigid for him to stand it. When he pulled himself from the wading pool and onto the shore, his mismatched gaze found a delicate frame. Narrowing his brow, the pallid corsair shook his coat to shed droplets into the sand and stretched his limbs out so that he could close the space between them. His wild pelt stood rigidly along his neck and shoulders, quill-like in appearance so that it jutted fiercely from his spine. The length of his frame appeared to stretch further with the shadows that fell across the bay. He loomed toward her like a dancing spectral, dripping salt onto the earth.
 
“Don’t think I caught yer name,” he began with a slight canting of his head. The boy was keen on this one; her words had gathered inside of him like a brewing thunderstorm and he was eager to release it. Though, if he knew her type, there would be others she would seek to benefit. Selfishly, he wanted to claim her, but he knew better than to test the temper of a fiery woman. The will of them was stronger than even he could comprehend.