Stavanger Bay you haven't felt my wrath until you've felt my hands on your chest

she struck and struck, the sand flying and long, flaying gouges appearing in high ridges between her flailing limbs. exhaustion was quick to seize her, and panting like a mad-woman she looked up in time to see the studiously cold eyes of another. instantly her hackles rifled, as if outraged any wolf had dared behold her display of madness. she lifted her slim muzzle upwards and tasted the air with parted jaws, her expression insolent as she returned erzsebet's gaze.