Stavanger Bay Maps for the getaway

He could put two and two together. The bristling, the hard, suspicious look. This one knew the wolf who had been buried here, or at least the grave held some significance for him. One side of his mouth lifted slightly into a malefic smile. He prowled forward, his head held aloft and eyes reaching for the other's.

"Captain Blackbeard, Ferahgo." He stopped his paws a wolf length and a half from the silver boy with sandy legs. "Who are ye to be askin'? Why do ye care?" He made no motion to glance at the grave, as he if was unaware it was even there. His focus, sharp and unwavering as ever, was held on the blue of the other's gaze.