Wheeling Gull Isle now i think it's high time you lie down and bleed

@Skellige @Szymon tags for visibility! AW.

murgash savored the spray of salt and the sting of the water as he treaded the shallows, the idiotic grin still simmering on his grotesquely marked muzzle. he turned back to see if his audience had followed him -- it was high tide and high time the slavering beast showed his mettle for the seawolves.

after all, great succulent meals abounded -- and if he was lucky, great succulent women as well.

without looking back the slovenly red-hand slipped into the depths, feeling the rush of cold as it swallowed him and filtered around his body, his back, his throat. he did not wince, instead he slipped into a paddle, cresting the frothy waves and leaving in his wake the gentle lather of grime and sea-foam.

it was a long way yet, and emboldened the cretin broke into song between gasps of air and dodges of rippling waves: "oo, once twas a hero naem'd ragnar the rehhd--" gasp, gulp -- the splash of wide-webbed paw as he battled the riffling water -- "who came ridin' to whiterun frum ole rorik'sted." eventually the waves would drown the racuous call of his insulting voice, and the seawinds would whip and squall and carry his voice seaward where none would be unlucky to hear.