Stavanger Bay follow your nose it always knows

There was not much left to the whale. There was a ramshackle arch made of sun-bleached rib bones with several more scattered to the side or leaned against it. In front of them the long and slightly curved jaw. Then a half dozen vertebra. In places dark and rotted sinew hung from the bones. There was so little left that not even the birds paid it heed any more. Nonetheless the scent — despite how faint it was — had drawn him in to investigate. There was perhaps no wolf out there with a keener nose than he, nor one so inclined to be lead by it at a whim. So, with @Kimik in tow, he broke away from the group of Anneriwok to satisfy his curiosity.

Tiriarnaq strolled forward across the beach. The resting gulls parted to let him pass with out quarrel. He went immediately to the arch of ribs and sniffed them at length. Starting at the bottom, he slowly worked his way up to a tough and leathery piece of sinew, which he briefly tugged at before working his way along the threadbare carcass. He shoved his nose into the vertebra, nudging them around, snorting and sneezing as sand tickled his nostrils. He was aware of his sister nearby as he circled and confirmed that there truly was nothing of interest here.

The white wolf sat back on his haunches with a sigh as his eyes combed the bay. The carcass may have been stripped well before his arrival but perhaps there was something else around worth investigation.

She hated to be parted from the sea, though her reason was weak; it was the most familiar thing to her, and the further inland she traveled, the more lost to time she felt. It was true that she wasn't particularly fond of other wolves, but to be a wolf was to function within a pack -- at least, that was what instinct screamed within her blood. She did her best to ignore it, and by extension keep her anxieties at bay.

Still, this place didn't seem to be lacking in wolves or claimed land; it was more a matter of which would accept her, and if she would accept them. Morrighan was not sure where to start with this, having never remembered being part of such a community, only inexplicably knowing that it was what nature demanded of her. It seemed like asking for trouble, to merely show up where a scent was thick and ask awkwardly, "Will you be my home?"

So lacking any place better to go, she went where she was comfortable. As the hard land gave way to sand that cushioned her paws, unseasonably cold for this time of year, she exhaled heavily in relief and set her mismatched gaze upon the rolling waves. She did not yet notice the white male some ways off, somewhat blended with the shore and obscured by the ribs of some long-dead sea beast, and made her way closer to the shallows of the bay.