Stavanger Bay sending a danger signal

Anybody, but I would love a thread with @Lagertha since Sizzle has not met her yet.

Pressing a soft kiss to Doe’s brow, Szymon untangled himself from her sleeping form and exited their den. The pale colors of dawn washed the bay territory in a haze of cream, grey, and milky citrine hues. It was pleasant to break through the clumps of pampas grass and find the Sea at his proverbial doorstep, and he yawned his contentment with leonine languidness, his powerful jaws cracking gratifyingly. The ceremony was nigh, and restlessness swam like a swarm of electric eels through the boy’s bloodstream — it taunted the monster that drove the youngest Cairn, and he itched for a distraction. Recalling Doe’s story about the female called Lagertha — a name he would never be able to comfortably pronounce, he was fairly sure — he wondered whether he would find release in the physical rigors of sparring.

He lingered at the shoreline, diving into the roiling Sea and striking out toward deeper water to catch his breakfast — webbed paws drove him below the surface as the current brought him home to the terrain most wolves didn’t dare explore. It was good fortune that Skellige had found this place, devoid of the warring nautical clans, an untouched sanctuary for the Cairn family. Lunging beneath the surface, he snapped his jaws over the fat, ruddy body of a snapper. Turning back toward shore with his prize, he broke surface and sucked air through the prison bars of his razor-edged fangs, water spraying from his nostrils in a fine mist as he heavily exhaled and allowed his breathing to regulate.

The golden-eyed Cairn touched down upon sand and shook himself vigorously, tearing the head and spine from his kill with furious gusto where he stood. Then, he lay in a sphinx-like position to bite into his prize.