Cerulean Cape everything was screaming: the sea, the wind, my heart

As she replied, Floki shifted his gaze back to the apparent herbalist in the background. Even from a distance, he could see that the male had put together a small pile of seaweed, among other indistinguishable items. Floki couldn't say that he knew the use of seaweed, although he was certain that his mother would have been knowledgeable. He offered a soft hum and then shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Me neither," he admitted with a roll of his shoulder.

He looked back to the dark she-wolf, taking in her shadowed countenance as she asked after his place of origin. There were a number of ways he could answer, and typically he would have provided Moonspear's name without a second thought. But there was something about the sea and the way its rolling waves and salty breeze called to him; it made him wistful and nostalgic.

"I was born down the coast," he said, gesturing over his shoulder at the beach to the south that he had already traversed. His pawprints were a visible reminder of where he had been, though the ocean was slowly washing them away. "Stavanger Bay," he added.