Stavanger Bay we are all just stars that have people names

he insisted that she would learn to be a shark, and she smiled at it. she had heard of those creatures. stealthy and silent, a weapon beneath the waters that none could see coming. they were not known for their gentleness; she recalled watching one thrash around an already injured seal--she had wept for hours, before her father found her and comforted her. skellige was wrong, but she did not correct him: she would never be a shark.

he mentioned his eyesight being sharp, and even as she looked into the depthless things with her own brilliant emeralds she knew he was not wrong, for there was nothing in his eye that meant his sight would be obstructed, and she could not see the whites of them to note any redness there. she had never seen a wolf swim as he had, but she was eager to learn. were not all aquatic creatures graceful? could she not learn that grace, beneath the waves? carry with her what she was on land, and take it to the sea?

and then he spoke of swimming with her, and she followed him. as he looked to her, she smiled to him warmly, excitedly. her tail flew over her back as she waved it in a manner that expressed only her joy, and when he paused she laughed as she moved to streak ahead of him. she was not shy as she bounded freely into the water, but now it was her turn to pause and look to him with an eager grin, waiting for further instruction.