Stavanger Bay you can call me monster

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Were Warsaw a ship, Szymon would have been cast as the Jonah — and had his parents and siblings not thrust him physically and emotionally into that role, his guilty conscience would have just as soundly done the trick. Only Skellige had taken a chance on the golden-hearted youngest Cairn, and for that glimmer of understanding, Szymon had willingly devoted his life to the stormy titan. A sharp nod greeted the leviathan’s clipped assumption, the pallid younger brother’s lip curling with derision at the mere thought of the vain creature that was his sister. Szymon remained watchful and wary as wrath churned within the silver-ribbed dredge king’s breast; Skellige’s temper was not one to be trifled with, and although he was gentler than most with the sulphureous-eyed boy, it still did not pay for Szymon to let his guard down.

Patiently he waited, and was awarded with Skellige’s command. Glancing about with new zeal in his glowing golden eyes, the youngest Cairn surveyed the area. Dipping his head low in respect and tacit understanding, Szymon greeted the thunder rumble of Skellige’s voice with a low, guttural growl of his own. As the leviathan spoke, so his will would be done — for his will was the sea’s will, and the sea provided.

Now as Szymon looked around the bay proper, he saw promise. Who could fight with equal ferocity in sand, shale, and sea, but a Cairn? Despite the abuse of his childhood, Szymon had killed and conquered — not with the zeal and carnal enjoyment of his kin, but with at least the same efficiency. Growing up in Warsaw had brought about a change, a loss of innocence, in the inky-ribbed creature. He looked at sand and saw advantage there — the Cairns’ long legs were meant for running both sprint and distance in the stuff. He looked at the sea and saw a means of beating the famine that these poor wolves of the valleys, forests, and mountains could not fathom. Many had died needlessly; for the bounty of the ocean was just beneath their noses had they even dared to look. If any wolf were to conquer the bay, Skellige Cairn could do it.

And Szymon would support him every step of the way.

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