Dragoncrest Cliffs this guy is a weightlifter, but i can bench an entire continental shelf

A cold rain drove in from the west to batter the coast, but it did nothing to deter Stingray from his morning swim.

The sea waves were a little higher than usual this morning on account of the weather, but Ray cut through them as smoothly as a shark's fin. Despite leaning a little to the portly side, he was a proficient swimmer and an excellent judge of the currents. Once, the undertow threatened to tug him further from shore, but he corrected with ease and guided himself to a calmer spot.

Treading water, Ray scanned the coastline for signs of life. With the rain, he wasn't sure anyone would come down to the beach today, but maybe @Njord would be out patrolling and would come this way? Some one-on-one time with his dad would be pretty baller. He was ecstatic that Njord was home and safe, but like his brother, he remembered his mother's tears and felt a little weird about that whole thing.

She had welcomed Njord back with open arms. Stingray would do the same. Forgiveness was easy, and unlike Fish, he didn't really need time to work through it. Not spending much time with Njord since his return was purely coincidental, the consequence of Ray spreading his wings and exploring the surrounding lands. Their trip to Mereo had planted the seed of curiosity and Mercy's departure had caused it to sprout.

But he was home today, he thought, paddling for shore. He ought to remedy that.

Njord circled back from the border through the tunnel towards the beach. Despite the seasons changing, the rolling surf was calm and amiable. Amidst the waves he saw a spot of flaxen color swimming confidently towards the shore.

The seafarer picked up his pace and trotted into the whitewater to greet his son, Sobo’s words carved into the back of his mind. “Stingray!” he called above the waves. “Aint you a bonny swimmer,” Njord cajoled, expression bright and earnest.

Strong strokes of his limbs carried him swiftly back to shore, where his father had appeared to greet him. Ray felt his paws hit sand and broadly grinned.

Aye, da, he said, trotting out of the surf and giving himself an instinctive shake despite the rain that would soon soak his pelt again. I make sure to swim every day so I know the sea and the sea knows me.

He turned back to his father, blinking cobalt blue eyes when he realized he wasn't much shorter than his sire now. He stood somewhere between Meerkat and Njord in height. The last time he'd seen his da, he'd had to look up at him from knee height.

What're you doing? Can I come? he asked with a gentle, hopeful wag of his tail.

Njord lifted an arm and feigned to shield himself from the seaspray off of his son’s pelt. The seaman grinned, his heart warmed by Stingray’s words. “Och, she be known’ ye very wheel, I see,” he said, a teasing laugh woven into his speech.

The change in his son wasn’t lost to Njord. Stingray was more man than boy, their blue eyes almost level with one another. He had exchanged his puppy roundness for leaner angles, but Njord could spy a similar softness his mother possessed… or maybe it was the golden fur that made Njord see Meerkat in his boy’s face. As a strapping lad of eight months old, the seafather knew he was not yet done filling out.

“Of course, lad” Njord exclaimed pluckily, happy that one of his children wanted to be around him. “I was on my way tae patrol our border with Ankyra Sound. That area oft needs defendin’.” He watched Ray’s expression to gauge his interest and turned, ready to set off.

He chuckled along with his da and stepped to his father's side as they set off. Wanting nothing more than to impress his father, Ray began to surreptitiously mimic the man's strong, certain gait. It was a bit different than his normal bumbling gait, a holdover from puppyhood he hadn't quite managed to shake, but he felt a little self-conscious about seeming like a child in Njord's company.

It does? he asked, wracking his brain to remember it. Wasn't that the funny little beach below the cliffs to the south where the water sometimes glowed? As far as Stingray knew, that was sort of a dead end along the coast. How come? There's nothing even there!

The pair set off through the tunnel and up the Greatpine towards the Southwest border, the distant coast peeking through the dark wood. Stingray was curious and it made Njord feel wisened and, in turn, old. How much there was to teach his son about the world!

They came to the pitched, cascading steps of a well-traversed deer path. Ankyra slept below nestled next to Monolith Forest. “She’s unassumin’ ain't she?” Njord agreed. Seaglass eyes flicked across the skrim. Gulls crowed as they fought over the carcass of a large crab. Njord recalled a memory: first meeting Kigipigak on these shores.

“Ankyra is well-fortified tae strangers with decent huntin’ in the her woods. If a landlubber attempts tae descend tha searocks or venture into her labyrinth, they’re sure t’perish,” Njord explained morbidly, a wry smile on his mug. “A seawitch named Caiaphas once called it home…” his voice trailed, eye on Stringray. Did he wish to know more?

It was even more unassuming in person than the way it existed in Ray's imagination. Tall sequoias stood sentry over cliffs ringed around a small beach that disappeared under a natural archway. Below was a grotto that Stingray couldn't make out from where he stood looking down over the Sound. Not much to look at, but apparently there was a lot more to it than how it looked.

A shiver crawled down between his shoulders when Njord fixed him with that grin. Wolves die here?! Ankyra Sound had a long and bloody history that Stingray was quite oblivious to, all beginning with the very sea witch Njord mentioned.

He shuffled his paws, suddenly feeling like something was watching them. Njord had him hook, line, and sinker. Did she... Eat them after she killed them? Like witches in stories?

“Och, aye lad,” Njord confirmed as his eyes roved in the same direction as Stringray’s. “Tis easy tae get turned around in ‘er tunnels. If yer caught down eh wrong path when th’tide comes in… weel…” Njord’s voice petered out. Best leave the rest to the imagination.

The father smirked at his son’s next remark. Erzulie had told Njord, who only knew of the Witch through his aunt’s stories, that Caiaphas had actually been a living, breathing person. It was difficult to imagine the scale of adversity the seawoman caused to become so infamous.

“Only children,” Njord mused. “Tha stories go she oft stole away babes. Some tae eat. Some tae indoctrinate an’ do ‘er wicked biddin’.” He paused, a small smile on his lips as he remembered how animated Maera would become when telling these tales. “Y’see, she was a conjurer of cantrips. If ye drew her ire, she would mark ye for death by leavin’ a dismembered head at ye borders. T’was fitting for her fur, from the throat up, was black as pitch. Some say that, on a dark night, Caiaphas looked headless ‘erself. ”

All brief fantasies of mapping out the cave system were whisked away with Njord's warning. Yikes. Stingray thought he knew the timing of the tide pretty well, but even he wasn't brave enough to risk going down there. All it would take is one wrong turn, and his knowledge of the tide wouldn't matter one whit.

Njord went on to explain Caiaphas' bloody mark and the ghastly way she looked. Stingray felt like every hair on his body was standing on end. She stole babes? To do her wicked bidding?! What... What sort of b-bidding did she make them do? he asked, swallowing thickly and trying to calm the nervous quaver in his voice.

From the sounds of it, she was no longer around, but... A witch that powerful... Who was to say she couldn't transcend the chains of mortality? What if she was down there, in the grotto, waiting to snatch young teens who went wandering when the tide was low?

Stingray’s captivation humored his father and made Njord’s eyes become jolly and bright! But had he dialed up the ‘fright-factor’ too high? “Am I scarin’ ye, laddie? I hear a wee stammer in yer voice,” Njord pointed out, though it did not deter him from continuing his tale with a smirk.

“She’d raised ‘em tae deliver curses tae hex her enemies! But, worst of all, fight against their own clans with an’ endless thirst fer blood…” Njord drew out the last word for dramatic effect.

“Tae this day, some of tha bairns she stole still live… workin’ under Caiaphas’ influence from beyond tha grave.”

Stingray gasped right along with Njord's story beats. Hexing was all well and good, but fighting against their own clans? Who would do that?! he asked loudly, only to shoot another look at the sound, just in case the ghost of Caiaphas had heard him.

The coast was clear. Stingray pushed out his chest a little, attempting to both look and feel a little braver. I'd never do that, da! No witch could ever make me fight Sapphique!

Stingray amused his father. The boy had such a kind spirit! Njord knew his son’s heart was just as gold as his sunny fur. And brave, too. The lad proclaimed no force could ever cause him to turn against his kin.

“Nay,” Njord agreed with an approving rumble. “I ken yer spirit is too strong for that, lad.” He passed a smile to Stingray and turned towards Monolith Forest.

“Seems quiet ‘ere,” the man remarked. “Let’s go up towards Monolith Forest an’ then we can follow tha ravine back home.” Onwards!