Stavanger Bay Maps for the getaway

Carefully, Floki made his way back around Donnelaith by way of Deepwood Weald. He wrinkled his nose, finding their claim in the Sentinels to be inconvenient, but any negative thoughts dissipated as he moved into Stavanger Bay. Almost immediately, he felt a sense of peace as his paws pressed into the loam. He padded slowly through the trees, planning to pay a visit to his father's grave before heading to the ocean.

Only once before had he laid eyes on Ragnar's place of rest, after meeting Aesop from Silvertip Mountain. He hadn't lingered for long and felt guilty about it now. Perhaps it was the wedge that had been driven between himself and Tevinter that made him feel that way; his twin brother obviously had a stronger connection with their deceased sire, which was a continual point of contention for Floki.

He huffed, his breath rising in a cloud of steam as he approached the ash tree. Even from a distance, his hackles prickled; something didn't feel right. He could smell the scent of other wolves, and as his gaze landed on the grave, it was evident that it had been disturbed; there was an empty hole in the ground and the snow and dirt were crisscrossed with pawprints -- but there were no bones. His heart skipped a beat as he came to a standstill, feeling a combination of fear and anger mounting in his chest.