Stavanger Bay And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

maybe @Brig ?

That had been a mistake.  Rosalyn glared at the cliff from a short distance away, ducking as one of the birds swooped in a final warning and giving an indignant 'shit' as its claws raked her ear.  It flew screeching back to the upper reaches, and she sat down where she was and set to putting her coat back in order.  She might need a dip in the ocean after that.

Her aim had been the nests on the cliff, and she'd had a time of it climbing cautiously to some of the lower set ones.  She licked her chops and grinned... the scratches had been worth it in the end.  Those eggs were good, and she'd managed to snag two nests before being forced back down and set to running.  Their beaks and talons had caught her a few times on the muzzle and shoulders, and she could feel the nick in her ear welling up, but the surface scrapes were nothing to a full and happy stomach.  Couldn't very well set eggs aside for the pack, but perhaps she'd go back and try to snag one of the offenders in a bit.

There were very few things Brig could hunt without worry. Most animals, large and small, required too much running to be worth it when his body had no interest in cooling him down -- land-based prey was out of the question. He could catch fish, scavenge sea-life in the tidepools, and while Adéwalé wasn't bad at that either what the jackdaw could do very well was steal eggs.

Luckily for them, there was plenty of opportunity to do just that.

They had been out since much earlier in the day. Brig tried not to get himself injured, but he could do a few snaps at birds to get them chasing after him, swooping down -- the grazes stayed minor as long as he wasn't too bold and the distraction was enough for Adéwalé to sneak egg after egg from the nests. Which was where being in a pack made things somewhat less fun, because instead of eating all of them he had to set a few aside; he supposed, in fairness, he'd been eating quite well since. 

They'd taken a short break for Adéwalé to have a couple too, and now they were back; there were six or seven buried in the sand that Brig had marked with a little pile of stones so he'd be able to find it later, and they moved in a quick arc along the beach, scaling the dunes to draw up onto the cliffs. There would be more nests up here, if Brig knew anything about seashore. Which he did.

It was something of a surprise to see the birds already in such a fuss, though.

Brig paused, glancing over the grass and melted snow with his good eye, and looked up to where Adéwalé had been circling lazily in midair. A quick bark drew the bird back, the jackdaw swooping down in a flutter of feathers to land neatly on Brig's shoulder.

"See anythin'?" Brig asked. Eugh. The speech patterns really were rubbing off on him, weren't they?

Adéwalé treated him to a bit of a look that confirmed it, and gestured with his beak off along the edge of the cliff. "Yes. Another hunter. Looks to be one from that fight."

Brig huffed, but started walking. He hoped it wasn't the one who'd lost; way she'd snapped at him when she left, Brig didn't have much hope of her being the type he'd get along with, or who'd get along with him. He picked his way carefully, making sure not to step on anything that looked sharp, and eventually caught a glimpse of the auburn wolf.

Not that one, then. He didn't actually know what rank anyone was really supposed to be, let alone anyone but Smokestep's name, so he'd just have to hope no deference was required. "Hello," he offered instead as he drew closer, keeping an eye on her reaction almost purely out of habit.

She was finishing up a spot on her hip and had just set to cleaning one of the deeper scratches on her shoulder when Brig rolled up and greeted her.  She lifted her head, eyes immediately going to the bird that perched on his back.  That was normal.

"Hey.  Y'know you got a snack on your back, right?" She asked, eyeing it neutrally.  She wasn't a fan of making nice with food, generally speaking, though likely he was one of those wolves who liked such things.  Odd.  She did recognize him... he was one of those who had come when she had faced Sandpiper.

Creepy cameo -- tag her to involve her! :)

Nox is used to the sounds of birds but since her run in with a couple of golden eagles, she isn’t so keen on the idea of any others, to be honest. Seagulls are annoying to begin with but she’d been able to tune them out, but lately she’s been on edge. She hasn’t been very social with the other members of the pack and the few wounds she had from her attack with the loner had been easy to blend in with those on her back from the large predator birds over a month ago. The skin is mostly healed with a few scabs just short of sloughing off but it doesn’t help the cold still in the air and the ocean whipping it around like nothing.
 
When she hears the upset of the birds in the distance, after chasing several on the beach, she flinches and looks in that direction. Curious, she begins to make her way closer to see but someone else has a similar idea and she hesitates, keeping back off the shore so she doesn’t draw too much attention to herself. Eventually, Roz pops into few—or so she thinks it’s by a forceful squint—but still remains in the distance for a few silent moments.

seeing as Brig went inactive imma skippy

He didn't seem too pleased with her assessment of his passenger, but she wasn't all that understanding of those who chose to run around making friends with food.  Yeah they could be useful, but end of the day, the best use was down the gullet.

Not sure if she'd hear back on that later (she'd hoped to make friends, and hadn't maybe completely screwed that attempt up?), she let him go about his way, taking her own path that would continue on towards @Nox's position.

The interaction between the two of them doesn’t seem to last very long. The stranger trots off in the opposite direction and her eyes follow the leader briefly, watching as she adjusts to the situation and decides to head her way. Her ears flick upon her head and she shifts, uncertain what she’s supposed to make of it. The birds are still upset, but seemed to have started to quiet now that the threat is leaving the proximity.
 
“What was that?” she asks with a flick of the nose, but whether the birds or their estranged pack mate, she isn’t clear.

"New guy," she responded as she drew in to Nox, surprised but not startled to run into her.  "Someone with a bird pal.  Didn't seem to like it much when I suggested what a waste of a snack that was," she added with a grin, wondering if Nox would feel similarly.  She had a past with birds right?

"I'll worry about it later.  How's things?"  She dismissed thoughts of Brig fairly summarily and instead focused in on Nox, curious how her time with the crew was coming.

New guy.
 
Nox’s eyes narrow as she watches him disappear into the distance. Newer than her? She hasn’t seen him around before, but she hasn’t seen very many, so it’s hard to say. She doesn’t worry about it. Anyone friends with a bird is already weird.
 
“They’re okay,” she lies with a roll of her shoulder. Most of her wounds have healed but her dreams still remain vivid and intact. “I feel like I barely know anyone,” she decides to go with, covering up her life with some sort of relevant truth.

That makes two of us, Rosalyn thought drily, though a cynical afterthought followed; did anyone ever really know anyone else?

"Most I've met are a pretty good sort.  Few aren't the most friendly but least we're all crew.  If they're gonna do anyone in, probably won't be us," she said, thinking of this guy's rugged appearance and Sandpiper's obvious venom.  "Anything you want to know about me?" She asked, suddenly curious and in, conversely, a more affable mood after her previous strange encounter.  There were things she wouldn't talk much about, of course, but typically a crew had the right to know who they were throwing lots with.  Especially leadership.

Roz talks about the crew though it’s vague enough that she can’t decipher who she’s talking about—not that she knows anyone, for that matter—but she brushes it off and shrugs one shoulder with indifference. Eventually she’ll get around to it but right now she still prefers being alone but her attacker hasn’t left her alone since she ran into him a few weeks ago.
 
She licks her lips as the question is presented, glancing over to one side as if to consider the question. Her mind only goes as far as her critical thinking allows and, well, it’s not very far. “Um, I don’t know,” she says, feeling a weird tension in her chest as if the other woman is judging her so she scrambles to try and find something, glancing back toward her quickly. “What made you pick here?”

She wasn't a curious one, but Rosalyn liked that just fine.  She didn't much like harping on the past; a lot of it was unpleasant, good only for the lessons she'd learned along the way.  The question she ended up on was a fairly easy one, she was glad to hear.

"I don't do well with structure, or expectations," she said with a knowing smile.  "Ironsea doesn't have much of either, and it's on the shore even.  Couldn't ask for much more than that."  She wasn't averse to doing her share, of course, but she enjoyed that it was her prerogative what that share was.  "How about yerself?  I know I was the one that offered, but a lifetime's a long time.  What'd ya hear that you liked?"

Rosalyn explains her reasoning in a way that resonates inside her. She seems to fit all the criteria. She’s never been particularly ambitious, leadership has never been desired, and here she has other like her thriving without all the boundaries. Nox licks her lips and wags her tail a bit. “I felt like I fit’n’ere,” she says, though she doesn’t know if it’s true. Of course, it’s not anything she can blame on anyone but him, but for now she can only move forward. “Where else d’you think you’d see me?” she snorts jovially.

Rosalyn smiled appreciatively as she said she fit in here, liking the sentiment.  It was one that was important to a crew; if they couldn't hold their members, ensure they had something worth having here, then the entire thing would fall apart in an instant.  Implode like so many others she'd seen and scatter to the winds like seaspray.

"Gimme a few weeks, I'll let ya know," she joked.  She hadn't known Nox long, but liked her fine so far; she had a sense of humor and didn't seem to think too highly of herself.  Rosalyn's favorite combo.  "I think you fit here fine too.  Here's hopin you take that as a compliment."  She winked good naturedly.  She poked a bit of fun at the motley state of their gathering, but Rosalyn was happy as hell to be a part of it, and wouldn't have it any other way.  Because if it was any other way, likely she wouldn't last.

Nox snorts at the statement. What’s gonna change in a few weeks? She brushes it off, though, because Roz does thinks she belongs in Ironsea. There’s still a lot to unfold but of all the mismatched wolves in one place, where else would she fit?
 
“I’m gonna go check the borders,” she says a beat later when she realizes she doesn’t have anything else to say, “you wanna come?”

She snorted, but didn't seem too displeased to be named a suitable fit for the crew.  Good! Any wolf who'd turn their nose up at the company likely didn't deserve to be in it, by her mind.  A lesson she'd learned the hard way in previous packs.  She still counted a pack and a crew as two entirely different entities... crew invoked more loyalty to her, for she wasn't in her mind there by obligation or need to survive.  Rather to thrive in the company of others.

"Sounds like fun," she said, with only a hint of joke in the tone, "and I got nothing else to do.  So sure!"  If they didn't talk much either, that was fine... border patrols were often more fun with company regardless.

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