Stavanger Bay and the earth with its starkness

It was nearly done - the only thing left to do was widen narrow mouth of her den into a yawn, and then Szymon would be able to come inside and see the home she'd made for them. She hadn't shared her plans, as of yet, but Doe knew that he wouldn't say no. Not to her. Even if he was a little hesitant at first (this, she expected), she'd bring him around. Shove him in there and force him to endure her love.

A wide, yawning grin stretched across her face as she scraped her long nails against the curve of the entrance, adding a few finishing touches to smooth out the groves she'd made. The roots of the pampas grass were now hanging from her ceiling, but she rather liked that. It wouldn't hurt them, and it added the pungent smell of the root to their little home, where it mingled with the other scents she'd filled the place with. Sweet, old meats. Sharp, sour lemongrass. Bitter oil from an oleander bush - and she'd have to remember to warn Szymon away from that, and let him know not to lick her when she smelled like it.

Finally satisfied with her work, Doe stood back and called @Szymon's name-sound