Stavanger Bay I am not the slave to history but rather the slave to ambition.

How joyous he would be if the world was dominated by his people! Then maybe he'd have his sister back, not in the grasp of some foreigner, but with him again! He did not think about this too much, as the question she posed made him quirk his head to one side and repeat, Donnelaith, which he enunciated just in case his voice was the issue the first time around. After a pause Renoir motioned with a turn of his body and the brief flair of a head toss towards the west - It is beautiful. Ocean and forest, and a great number of magnifiscent people. Behind him his tail fanned the air, his pride in relation to his home quite evident. Though he had only been there a short while, Renoir knew it was where he meant to stay.