Stavanger Bay but you're lookin' lights out, turnin' me on

tag for reference, but always an invitation! <3

rhaegal's days have been a blur of exploring the bay, spending time with @Vairë, hunting for and with her.

days spent enjoying chasing the waves and nights spend stargazing.

but the pressure of building a home in the bay ... before someone else came along to snatch it out from beneath the sveijarn couple grips rhaegal strongly.

sneaking in and fissuring the happy honeymoon stage he lingered in.

it is these thoughts that chase rhaegal from their bed early in the morning, down to the shoreline where the sand is cool between his toes and the water is a dull but reassuring roar.

They were making a home here. Rhaegal and Vairë both, and Vairë wanted it to be forever.

She knew others out there would attempt to take it. This thing that didn’t even have a name yet. So, when Rhaegal left their bed that morning, she thought it over. Made the decision. And followed.

Her footfalls were soft against the sand, and her voice gentle as she gave a soft chuff of greeting to her husband, coming to stand beside him.

I think I have a name for this place. She said after a moment.

though rhaegal has worries about his own inaction at trying to grow a pack and garner followers, he tries to reassure himself that building their family was first.

but, as his doewife had yet to go into her heat and there was no bairns immediately on the way he tries to soothe the worst of his worries away. if that were the case, the urgency might be different.

and he wouldn't put her or their bairns in danger: he'd suggest temporarily calling moonglow or one of her sister packs home, if that was what it came to.

oh? questions rhaegal at his doewife's words, peering down at her as she settles beside him; interested in what name she has in mind. what dae you want tae call it?

She looked at him with her riverstone eyes, held in the moment by the goldmint of his, before she cast her gaze out over the sea.

Vairë thought, for a time, of abandoning what she had thought of and going a time worn path. Moonglow, Moonspear, Moontide. It was a legacy, a well trodden path.

And yet..

She couldn’t get it out of her head.

I think it should be named.. The gentle lapping of the waves. The soft hum of sand grains slipping against sand. The very first time she had heard of Rhaegal, her mother had proclaimed this place as such. Why not confirm it, she thought, wild and reckless.

Saltshore.

saltshore.

saltshore, rhaegal repeats, testing it on his tongue; in his thick accent.

it's perfect. he tells her with a boyish grin, tail wagging behind him. a deep inhale of the saltbrine, mingling with her own perfume; letting it linger in his lungs before he exhales softly.

well, we have a name. guess we should start tae recruit. a thought then; remembering caracal. the boy, carcal ...and his girlfriend. maybe we could talk tae them? see if they'd be willin' tae leave their island for a home with us? join us on this adventure? unless, they were like rhaegal and vairë themselves: trying to make a pack of their own.

but! rhaegal figured it never hurt to ask.

Her tail began to wag as Rhaegal spoke, her eyes glittering with the promise of more. Her smile was wide on her face when she spoke.

I met a man near here who was looking for a home. Sawney, I believe his name was. I can see if he is still around! And that would be one for them, one for Saltshore.

She wanted, abruptly, to go dancing across the shore. It itched at her, and who was she if not easily enthralled by her own impulses. She gave a playful little sneeze, prancing a few feet away in a circle out of sheer excitement.

she speaks of a man she met, named sawney ( he internally cringed at the thought of trying to pronounce the poor man's name! ) who might be interested in saltshore.

in truth, rhaegal would be happy if they just managed to cobble together a small ragtag group ... but there was a strength in packs. an assurance in the safety of numbers.

and always, he thinks of vairë and their salt and sea bairns yet to even be conceived.

if ye think he'd be interested, than aye.

rhaegal watches with unbridled affection as his doewife gives a playful sneeze and prances a few feet away in a circle. rhaegal leisurely moves to close the distance, a playful growl rumbling low in his chest.

He came bounding after her, play in his movements, and Vairë lowered her head in a coy manner. She went parading into the surf, deeper than she’d gone since she got here, tasting salt when she laughed.

Up to her shoulders, she looked to her husband on the shore, using a flick of her sodden tail to toss water his way. A weak effort, sure, but she wasn’t quite used to playing in the water.

As evidenced when a wave nearly knocked her over a few seconds later, sending her stumbling into shallower waters with a breathless noise.

a chuckle leaves rhaegal: low, throaty; unfortunately laughing at her as a wave crashes against her. without her sealegs, he assumes, she is unaccustomed to the power of the sea.

careful, he calls after her, game put on temporary halt. the sea, she be powerful. rhaegal warns ( possibly a little later than he should have ). dinnae worry. you'll get yer sea legs soon.

Her response was a breathless laugh.

She certainly is! Vairë padded out of the surf, shaking herself a polite distance away. She still felt a little wobbly, but the ocean hadn’t done her too much harm.

How long did it take you? She asked in a half tease, still catching the remnants of her breath.