Stavanger Bay so haunting and captivating

this post is...strange, idk i just let riptide lead the way, haha.

 

Riptide's fiery gaze moved towards the large Leviathan as the ebony beast drew near, his fur clinging to his stalwart body, heavy and soaked with the salt water that he had not bothered to shake free of his coat, Riptide observed. Skellige called out to Arturo, and for a moment the sea witch looked away, breath stolen away from in a bizarre moment that he wasn't quite sure what to make of. The Leviathan did not know of him — only of the gangster — but Riptide knew of Skellige. For a moment there was a rushing seethe of jealousy — that Arturo had known this magnificent titan before Riptide but the sea witch was quick to quell it. For once, the sea witch was at a loss of how to respond. He was not Arturo. Arturo was still around, of course, though there were those dark times that the sea witch wished fervently the gangster would ...vanish, like the last defiant breath of a flame that had been cut off from it's oxygen source. No doubt, Arturo had wished the very same thing of Riptide. Most days, Riptide didn't mind Arturo but the gangster was not always quiet and not always complacent. It was like fighting to push together two magnets whose polarities were the same, gave the same sort of results: it got them no where and was a sheer impossibility.

A soft giggle, a very unlike Arturo noise, left the sea witch's lips and a deep breath was taken. He squinted out at the sea for a moment, drawing strength from it. It had been horribly easy to snarl at that little girl that had found him that he was not her father, despite how she had pushed and pulled and insisted. A girl, green into her adulthood, hadn't phased him despite that he could have had more class with shattering her world (he did not) and yet this was where he struggled, beneath the heavy stare of the Leviathan, waiting for his response. Riptide was not sure if Doe had informed Skellige of his falls from Ravenshook Cliffs or not, or in truth, how Skellige would take this. Panic flooded Riptide then as he contemplated that this could go horribly awry and that he could find himself (and Arturo) homeless. It wasn't something he had considered before but now that he had it threatened to choke him.

Still, the sea witch knew he could not pull off the gangster. Arturo spoke with an accent that Riptide could not emulate, and there was much about the gangster that the sea witch simply didn't know. What was that ridiculous child's story? Of the egg that fell from the bridge and cracked his head and the king's men couldn't put him together again. Humpty-Dumpty or something of that effect. “A fall was taken at Ravenshook Cliffs, the gangster cracked his head and wasn't right again.” A snicker left Riptide's lips. Well, no one could ever claim that he was good with stories or breaking news, for that matter. “He's still in here,” The sea witch was quick to assure. “I've been collecting medicines and poisons, Leviathan. I am not sure what he does when he has control, though.” Riptide admitted, not bothering to pause long enough to give Skellige time to digest the oddity before him.