Stavanger Bay give in to me

LMAO. That is amazing. I haven’t kept up with that show very well!

Szymon tore and swallowed the sculpin’s flesh with ease, having removed its poisonous spines prior to squirreling it away. He watched with fond amusement as his Doe rather uncertainly set about figuring out her own meal, and found her dainty deliberation to be almost unbearably endearing. A low chuckle drawled from his lips as she, with an abundance of saliva, dribbled one of the snapper’s bones from her mouth; he recalled that her natal pack’s traditions were quite different from his, and her unfamiliarity with pelagic fare bespoke of its newness to her. Tucking his wounded foreleg possessively over her dove gray flank with its cream petticoats, he listened with an attentive swivel of tattered ears as she spoke of another ritual from her homeland — it sounded quite odd, but after his foray into the gyrfalcons’ hillock, Szymon understood one hundred percent why bird beaks were chosen. It was a pity, he thought with a snicker, that he couldn’t perform such a ritual while the birds were alive.

He watched with curiosity burning in his auriferous eyes as his Doe stretched out her neck to retrieve one of the eggs, not fully understanding what she was doing until golden and clear liquid spattered over his face along with bits of frail shell. Hm. His mind whirred fruitlessly, producing only a series of question marks that quite possibly reflected in his eyes as he looked at her — and as a mischievous, satisfied, smug little grin spread itself over her muzzle he wrinkled his muzzle into a playful growl. He decided that, if they were improvising their own lovers’ ritual, he ought to share the spoils of their union — it was, after all, only fair — and burrowed his egg-streaked face lovingly and sloppily against hers with that rumbling, undulating growl still humming in his throat: a feral, wordless interpretation of the thwarted man’s, “Why, I oughta…” He drew away, regarding her lovely — if a bit drippy — visage, and decided that there was not nearly enough egg for her to truly…appreciate what he felt.

And, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he reached for the second egg.