Stavanger Bay Clearest blue

The small pup obeyed and as the titan led her across the sands in the direction of the forest pack, he wondered why the scent of fear still lingered on her body. The brute wondered if the sea had done a well enough job of washing away the weak parts of her body and making her worthy again. The wraith then wondered if he had not done right by the ocean; the child had been flung from the land and not the ceremonious dropping point, and she was not of the age that they typically entered the swell. Nevertheless, he had assumed that if she had been a weak subject, the waters would have swallowed her whole and they never would have seen the likes of her again. Instead, the great and mighty sea had returned the pup to him and he knew that she was blessed. The devotion that he felt toward the ritual was unwavering; Skellige reminded himself that he must trust in the ways of the great sea wolves, for that was the only way that they were to remain strong.
 
As they neared the trees of Donnelaith, the dark wolf turned back to run his dark eyes over the child once more, noting the scent of fear had grown stronger on her. “There is a waterfall over there,” he motioned toward the fresh water with a toss of his muzzle. “Go and drink and I will get you something to eat.” He turned his body away from her, hoping that she would find the strength to go where he had instructed.
 
There was a prey cache that they had tucked neatly before the border of the forest pack. He prowled toward it and uncovered the hidden meats with a sweeping of his nose across the seaweed that protected it. Underneath the covering was a small group of fish; he selected one that seemed suitable for the size of the child and covered the rest back up. With the fish in his mouth, he trekked back toward the waterfall to where the golden pup ought to have found herself and he settled the meal down on a small tuft of grass so that the sands would not cling to the scales of its body. “Here, Sharkbait… eat,” he growled softly. The name of the child had never been heard, and so he had offered her a suitable one. Though she was not of the ocean, the wraith would craft her into a seafaring war hound.