Stavanger Bay fury and reason

*throws a fish at him*

More than once, Floki thought about just abandoning his pursuit and leaving the stranger on the beach. It wouldn't have any effect on his life -- he could go on his way without repercussion. But he kept pulling, tugging inch by inch until the wolf's head was away from the lapping waves. At least now, should he go unconscious, he wouldn't have to worry about being drowned in shallow water -- at least, not until the tide came in.

There was little response from the white wolf save for a breathy whine and the twitch of one of his legs. Floki stepped back to survey the scene; he realized that he hadn't truly managed to move the male very far at all, but still he was satisfied. He had done something. He huffed through his nostrils then turned; a small silver lump on the beach drew his attention and he moved towards it quickly. It was a fish that had washed up and had been apparently been left behind by the sea. Odd, but extremely lucky; Floki would bet that this didn't often happen.

His own stomach gave a hungry twist, but he picked up the fish and brought it back to the stranger. He dropped it near the wolf's face; he wanted to be on his way, but would wait long enough to see if he had enough strength to eat.