Stavanger Bay always been more of a lobster fella

Fate or chance or some invisible path of interwoven threads led the brute here, some omnipresent or omnipotent being under the grounds or in the skies - or perhaps it went wherever it damn well pleased - tugging on strings to direct this one minuscule creature where it wanted. Travel had led him to hear many stories, each as far-fetched and terribly easy to dismiss as fantasy as the last. Eager mouths to spread the one absolute truth they knew and held near and dear, but if he was going to be quite honest, how he got here meant jack shit to bastard mutt.

A creature of simple needs, yet a terrible and ever-growing collection of wants and desires. Khanalyr was a male borne of a simple, uninspiring background that sought out riches, but not glory. That bright and shining spotlight was not meant for those with unsavory shadows to cast. Standards and image, boundaries and limits, that's what came in tow with anyone who sought to be an idol for others. And what sort of life was that to lead? Smothered by the principles of the less ambitious, shackled by meager means.

No. He quite fancied the shadows, and the shame that came with them.

A short cackle of triumph as the idle pile of rocks he let tumble down onto the shore beds cracked open an unsuspecting crustacean. The others scurried away in terror - and relief, let's be honest here - as the brown and grey wolf swaggered his way down to the wave-lapped rocks. Lips peeled and fangs tore at the shelled limbs, breaking them unceremoniously before greedily taking in that sweet meat, as small as it may be. "Hm now," idle, murmured words to himself, "A fine lobsta right here I got, jus' quality meat, mmm," A fantasy scenario welled around him, the messy shores a pristine beach, his simple crab a massive lobster, and his empty company surrounded with those lined up for trade.

Reality was fucking boring, anyways.

@Æthelwulff