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

Excitement glimmered in the coywolf's eyes as Blackbeard's interest turned toward the ship, and he was off, gallivanting around while crowing out yet another pirate shanty. Whether or not Ferahgo joined in, Blurry kept on singing until they reached the tallest ash in the area, beneath which someone had planted an old friend's bones.

"Here be booty, cap'n," he announced on the tail end of his song, his tail waving wildly with exhilaration. Ferahgo inspected it and soon had pulled up the bones of some unfortunate wolf that had found its way here. Its story was unimportant to the pair of pirates, who cared only that there was an entire trove of treasure here and it was all theirs for the taking. "Some righ' scurvy landlubbers, I reckon," answered the coywolf as his tongue wet his lips. "Them's strange in the head, cap'n, them's got the land sickness. Don' know the value o' good bones." Nodding absently, the swab sat back and postulated, "ain't no landlubber gon' miss 'em. I reckon they be all fer ye. A li'l gift for ye ship."