King Elk Forest the inundation

The wraith’s intentions had not been to rouse the woman from her slumber. She was doing him no harm by seeking dreams beneath the overhanging branches. The inky monster was curious to know why she would allow herself to rest in such vulnerability. How could the strange female find peace in the vast open terrain of the forest? Casting aside the thought, he peered at her strangely.
 
The swarthy male had no aim to mark the forest as his own. His experience with the territory had not been promising thus far. And try as he might, the titan could not keep himself from the sea for too long. He yearned to feel the scent of the brine again, and to have his inky pelt crusted in salt from the lapping waves. Skellige had known nothing else; the ocean was bred into his blood and soul. For all intents and purposes, this golden woman was in no danger of him claiming her land.
 
She watched him with a cautious curiosity, but the large male did not speak to her. He merely allowed his mahogany gaze settled on her slender features, holding his silence.