Stavanger Bay made in america

The other calls that had sounded near his borders had made sense to the wraith. He had known their voices and had not found himself altogether surprised to hear their song being sung to beckon him – Jagoda, Leokadia, and even catching sight of Ishild. While he had not imagined the Cairns would have traveled far from Warsaw, he did not reel as heavily as he had when the Ryba’s steady howl struck the length of his inky ears. The great leviathan turned his crown in the direction of the border where she sat and he found his limbs quivering for a moment before carrying him dutifully to the edge of the bay. Once his gaze caught sight of the female, all doubts were removed from his mind, and he found a curiosity had settled there instead.
 
“I would not have imagined a Ryba on my bay,” he drawled in a rumbling timbre. The darkness of his eyes swallowed her pale form whole and he sniffed the scents that her coat carried. She had traveled for some time, he noted internally. Skellige had made the trek himself, from the shores of the Warsaw islands to the depths of the Teekon Wilds, and he knew that it was dangerous and long, but what perplexed him was the idea that this woman had made it though she bore no blood relation to him.
 
So he waited with an intense patience for the girl to speak.