Stavanger Bay And the poets are just kids who didn't make it

 "Thinking can be dangerous, miss Aria," he warned her. Once a wolf is alone with their thoughts, they can easily turn to actions. "But, I must say, I came here to think, too," he said after a split second of hesitation. The breeze blew softly, thankfully not holding the scent of Caiaphas. 

"What is it that you're thinking about, miss Aria?" he asked the white wolf. Unlike her, his eyes were heavenwards, instead looking at the grey clouds that matched his fur.