Stavanger Bay I prefer to achieve immortality by not dying
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#1
All Welcome 
Full quote: “Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.”  ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Foxglove had found her Eldorado today, because during her daily scavenging through the masses of sea-weeds the unmistakeable stench of rotting flesh and the noise sea-gulls made in one particular location, lead her to a half-eaten carcass of a seal-baby. Without any hesitation and much emotion (eager aggresivness) she shooed the birds in every direction and to avoid any future assaults, lied atop the carcass. That did not deter the winged beasts, but annoyed them a great deal. And they kept screeching and flying over Foxglove's head, all the while she greedily ate every single piece of meet and bone she could get her teeth on. The company, though unwelcome, did not bother her in the slightest at that moment.
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
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#2
The ceaseless squawking of seagulls overhead had been a noise that Smokestep had drown out long ego. From birth, he had experienced their vexatious cries, but a year had treated him kindly. The pale wolf trotted lazily down the beach in search of his pack mates; a pair of mismatched optics sought the figures that he knew well enough, but it had been some time since he’d seen his good friend Raptor and Roz had not been fond of chatting after their last fight. Instead, he followed the pesky birds to a humorous situation that left him chuckling quietly to himself.
 
The quiet woman he had called Hex seemed to have found the carcass of a young sea lion that had washed ashore. She was in the process of feasting and fighting away the keen birds that fluttered over her head. Each snap of her fangs proved to be an intense gesture of displeasure for their company. He moved toward her before chuffing to announce his presence. “Ahoy, lass,” he called with a cheeky smile. “Would ye like somethin’ fresher?”
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
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#3
Cameo-ish. Skip Nox as needed -- or tag her if you interact with her -- and will probably post again later!

Her nose wrinkles as she trots along, chasing each pigeon-of-the-sea until it flies away, ultimately landing back in the same place but still several yards behind Nox. Most of the time they don’t do anything because she does nothing more than chase them, but today she’d gotten lucky and one didn’t fly as fast as it should, managing to land itself right into her jaws. She doesn’t have the best grip but she crushes what she does, flailing wings and pecking beak tries to aim for her face but she releases and resnaps all in an instant, crushing the life out of the bird and dropping it to the sandy ground as blood seems from the punctures.
 
Carefully, she picks it up by one of its legs and begins to trot further down the coast, this time leaving the other birds alone.
 
The further she travels, she hears the call of more angry birds. Again with the birds. Why does everyone piss them off? Smokestep is the only one she can make out from her distance but she slows, looking to the other and trying to make sense of her but nothing comes to mind. Eventually, the girl stops with the dead bird dangling from her mouth and standing a great enough distance not to hear anything ahead of her.
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#4
By the time Smokestep arrived, Foxglove had had her share of the rotten meat. The swollen sides of her bony frame indicating that she had eaten enough to call it a day - slink off somewhere and take a nap. But having experienced very long periods without food, she was not planning to leave her finding - not even, when it was impossible to stuff more in her already stuffed to the brim stomach. 

She gave a low warning growl in her leader's direction - not as a mean to challenge, rather tell that this was her source - knowing well that she would not be able to hold the fort for too long, she gave a quick look over the remnants, picked up a detached flipper and waddled a little distance away, settling down with the treasure between her paws. Then she regarded the pallid man with a questioning glance - what had he asked earlier?
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
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#5
Hex’s warning growl was not necessary, as Smokestep had already imagined he should have stood a respectful distance from her while she fed. He noted that her frame did not look nearly as starved as it had upon meeting her, and he was pleased that she had found some health within his walls. The Captain knew her type well enough; there were plenty of the feral kind on his father’s home islands, so he had grown around them and found ways to keep them pleased. Hex would have been the same, but he wanted to try to coax something more out of her. She was sharp as a tack and her instincts were unmatched, but he wanted to test her tongue.
 
“Ye settlin’ in alright, Hex?” the pallid man inquired to her with a small smile. Smokestep could see that she was reaching her fill of game, so he opted not to ask her if she would like more to eat just yet. 
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
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#6
Small talk. Foxglove's ears fell to the side and her momentary eager expression lost some light and became slightly frustrated/bored/annoyed and yet the regard she felt for the man made her keep her emotions reined in. Smokestep had done one kind thing to her at a time of dire need and she did not forget that. This did not mean that she liked being indebted to someone, nor that she liked the pallid leader. But he had earned her respect and that was the most she could give to anyone. 

In response she yawned, gave a leisurely look around and then let her eyes return to the leader - letting him decide, what he had read in her silent response, and then speak himself.
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#7
Nox out! <3

They continue to interact and neither one notices her. She could approach, offer her food, show good graces with the captain, but something prevents her from doing so. Adjusting the bird her mouth, she turns, glancing around behind her, before deciding against it. She can schmooze with him later, one on one. Giving the pair one last look, she darks off further inland to enjoy her prize.
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
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#8
It was merely unfortunate circumstance that Hex wasn’t fond of speaking, or the types of things that went along with speaking. Smokestep was so well versed in the art, he could have run circles around half the Teekon wilds if he so desired and still have enough to say about the state of the world for the second half. It was difficult for him to try to bond with a pack member that was so reliant on only her instinct and ability. He thought that if you couldn’t boast about it, what was the point in doing much of anything? Believing this and still seeing that she had changed some in her time within the Ironsea ranks. It was good to know that the crew was capable of sustaining itself, in spite of all their differences.
 
Smokestep inched closer toward her, casting aside any wary glance she would fire at him. He breathed a deep-rooted sigh and then fixed her with his gaze and a small frown. “Ye could at least pretent yer more excited, eh? I know ye ain’t fond o’ speakin’, but has anyone given ye trouble fer it?” the Captain inquired with a more serious note in his voice. Smokestep wanted to be sure that she was being tended to and not bothered for her lacking a voice.
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
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#9
Trouble? Surprise crossed Hexe's features, she gave Smokestep a wary look, then got to her feet and removed herself a little bit away from him. She was growing uncomfortable, not understanding, what exactly he wanted from her, and all this speaking and questions did not make things any better. She could pretend to having grasped everything he said, but Hexe was a creature incapable of imagination, and therefore incapable of lying. 

To ease her unrest, she began to sniff the sand around her, as if something very interesting had appeared there. And luck would have it that there would be. Her nose hit a star-shaped morsel, which she picked up tentatively and put down on the ground and examined with interest and curiousity.
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
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#10
Try as he might, Smokestep was not capable of making his interactions with the girl called Hex any more comfortable than they were at that moment. He felt flustered, sinking his paws into the sand of the bay, and watched as she regarded him with a wild expression before moving away from his figure. He followed her with his gaze, but did not move from his spot, and frowned as she mulled about to pick at whatever was on the ground. Smokestep watched her with some moderate interest, knowing that she wasn’t going to be fond of speaking with him any time soon. He had worked hard to build a home for her, though, and he only wished that she enjoyed it. The pallid boy had promised her a home and constant supply of food, and he had done nothing short of accomplishing it.
 
With a chuff, Smokestep attempted to catch her attention. He moved a few feet away from her and then gestured with his muzzle for her to follow him. There was something he wanted to show her that would – perhaps – ease her mind when around him. If not, it was the final piece of his promise to her; food. The young Captain waited for the mute to see if she would humor him in this.
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
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#11
The simple truth about some people (Hexe included) was that sometimes you had to stop trying hard for them and just let them be. Smokestep might think that his crew-mate's world was limited and life impoverished, that it needed improvement, but it was not so. Hexe was comfortable within the borders she had set up for herself, lived for, what little she had, and was in general quite content. 

Except social interactions - those were pretty hard and puzzling for her. Now and then a dim memory resurfaced in her moth-eaten simple mind - there she was talking, there she was answering, there complex matters resolved themselves. Thinking was easy and effortless. But she had lost access to all of it a long time ago and life of solitude had not required her to fight for those lost instruments and levers so important in speech. 

It seemed that the pallid man had decided for a different tactic on approach and, when he drew her attention to get up and follow him, she did. And after a little deliberation she took the star-shaped object with her. To have something to hold onto, in case things got confusing again.
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
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#12
Hex followed him with her treasure clasped in her mouth. Smokestep could not help but to smile as he glanced over his shoulder. Somehow, the less verbal he could be with her, the better she seemed to react. He did not want to create a confusing environment for any of his crew. They were the life blood of his pack, of his dream, and he wanted only for them to feel as though they were secure in the bay. The wolves of Ironsea would always be his priority; he was their Captain and he wanted them to know that he was only there to make sure they had as luxurious of a life as possible. Of course, there were those who would counter that his promise of a swift death would deter most from leaving. The corsair was not bothered by this; it was merely in place to prevent those few passersby who would take advantage of their hospitality and free-living ways before striking the next pack that fancied them. Within the walls of the Ironsea crew, loyalty was a prize sought by all.
 
Weaving a bit with his nose toward the sands, he made his way up and inland a short distance before he circled a few times in the same five-foot space and stopped. Craning his neck to make sure that Hex was still hot at his heels, the pallid young Captain reached out with his nose and pushed aside a leafy green lid that gave way to a small cache in the cold of the clay. Underneath the small housing were two hares and a small slew of fish that had been caught. Smokestep peered at the ink-splotched female and nodded his head toward it. “That’s fer ye, lass. Made ye a promise to keep ye fed,” he rattled on with a small shrug.  
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
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#13
I am not really sure, if Hexe fully understood the conditions under which she had joined this pack. And that there was a death penalty, if she ever decided to pick up her things and move elsewhere. I don't know, if she knew that hardly any thing in life was for free, and that the bits and pieces of kindness Smokestep showed to her, were actually a calculated bargain. That she would be required to repay this in the future. On the other hand, I doubt that she would understand if anyone tried to explain all this to her, no matter how simple terms they used. Because she lived in her own world, according to her set of rules and regulations, an entirely different logic woven in the fabric of her mind. 

Therefore, when Smokestep revealed her a carefully hidden cache (because, how had it possibly escaped her attention was a mystery - she combed the coasts most carefully every single day), she pounced at it's contents with no scruples whatsoever. At the same time she forgot to let go of her object and therefore after a little deliberation she took the little piece of fish, because it was the only thing that could fit in her jaws. With the two she retreated, settled down on her belly and began to eat greedily.
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
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#14
Last post for me, friend. <3
Hexe seemed surprised that there was food there, but Smokestep didn’t know that she had combed the beach in search of morsels. He’d known only that he knew the bay better than most of his crew and that he was capable of keeping things well hidden, if need be. Since he’d wanted no one else to find the cache, it only made sense that Hexe would also not be allowed to know where it was. He’d wanted it filled to the brim for her. As lackadaisical as he was, the young pirate was an over achiever in most things. If he was going to do something, he was going to put his heart and soul into everything that it took. While the cache was mostly full, he had struggled with some of the last pieces to offer her. Primarily food from the ocean, there were a few straggly hares and a mangled turkey in there as well. It wasn’t intended for the rest of the pack; it was for Hexe.
 
Feeling that she would rather be left alone, Smokestep shuffled his paws awkwardly before he nodded his head to her. “Right, well, er… hope ye enjoy it, Hex,” he offered in a softer voice. There was a single swing of his tail before the pallid young Captain turned and roamed toward the trees that stood at the far southern end of the bay. He sought the shade to clear his mind and to escape the heat that stretched down from a high sun overhead.
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
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#15
Hexe hardly looked up to see Smokestep go, few thumps of her tail was all the gratitude he got for giving her food. She was very focused on eating and hardly anything else mattered to her. After she had finished, sniffed and picked up some tongue-fuls of sand, where the piece of meat had lied during her meal, she got to her feet and looked around. Then - carefully and methodically she scoured the beach, until she found the secret cache again and put a scent mark there to tell others that this belonged to her. With this done, she dugherself a shallow pitin the snow and with her star-shaped object clasped firmly and tucked against her belly as some sort of an odd teddy-bear, she fell asleep.