Stavanger Bay war will nourish itself

Skellige, she drawled, her monotonous tones lacking any semblance of affection. It did not mean none was there; her voice was simply a perpetually stagnant one. Truly, if she did bear any in this family affection it would be difficult to tell. Perhaps the only proof there was was this: here she stood, knowing this was where her lot was. 

Her eyes lazily flicked over him, intentionally ignoring his words and instead going with: It looks like the famine stole much from you. Do you think you could still best me? A glint in her own eye came then as she looked to him. There was nothing meant by it except intentional goading. She had missed coming against him, grappling for power and understanding his strength. It was all a learning experience. He would find in his absence she had learned much. Long ago, Skellige had earned her respect. This day she simply sought his own, and she would join him here.