Stavanger Bay and the earth with its starkness

It was not his name-sound that had struck the air, but it had still drawn the titan forward with a curious intention. While the great beast had set up his own den far from the location of the others, he had come to know the scents of the witch doctor’s home as they had lingered on her coat. The leviathan had had many a meeting with the slender woman, but he had found his youngest sibling’s scent to be heavy on her pelt. The inky-ribbed Cairn had been absent, from what the dark brute could tell, but still present in the bay. While he was not a creature of vast intelligence, he was still perturbed by the thoughts that plagued him in regards to the flighty woman and his pallid sibling. It would not be long before their scents were intermingled and he could not tell them apart. Skellige could not understand how a witch doctor could draw Szymon. He was seeking answers from the girl.
 
Drawing closer to her home, the inky creature drew his skull upward and peered at the girl. “Not the Cairn you were expecting?” he inquired with a stern expression.