Stavanger Bay where the emptiness we leave behind on warm air rising

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As quickly as the game had turned in her favor, it was over. The great one had made an entrance, stopping Julep's reign of terror with her cold, wet pointer. She tried to battle, but her efforts were useless. Julep was thrown off-board roughly, and fell flat on her belly without much opposition.

But things had not ended there, for the great one decided it was once more time for a bath. Julep did not need it, and she tried to communicate this through yelps and kicking, but those efforts had also gone unrewarded. Although warm, the great one's tongue was wet and raspy, two things Julep had yet to find a liking for. Milk, instead, was a treasure, and when Julep was placed along her siblings in a line to latch on to a teat the red girl picked on her fiercely only to be, once again, rewarded with sweet nothing. A broken teat. Seriously? This was about to change, and she would make it so by nosing through the other poop's bodies until she found a teat that worked.

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