Stavanger Bay I hope we stay thick as thieves, butter and bread

He could hear his swab from down the coast. He was certain anyone could hear him, in fact, even the dead. Like a hungry bird, the coywolf was always squawking about something. "Ahoy, Scurvyface!" he called out as he prowled closer to his servant. The bedraggled thing was not much to look at and as annoying as a burr between your shoulder blades, but he was faithful and obedient. "What did ye find, me matey?" Ferahgo roughly shouldered his crewwolf aside to inspect the freshly packed sand.