Stavanger Bay 8 dogs 8 banjos (Optional Packtivity)

Please assume that @Chusi and Coelacanth are tagging along with Sizzle.

The odd-eared witch doctor must have had her reasons for not allowing Chusi to make her home in the bay territory, and being that she was the ranking officer aboard the Dozzle Ship, Szymon made no protest. It was decided that he would take the girl to Donnelaith to see if the wolves there would be willing to care for her — winter was coming, and he remained absolutely that the Sea had guided him to her, though perhaps for a different reason than he’d originally thought. Doe had intimated, though, that the wolves of the wood might be more inclined to kindness if the wolves of the bay extended it themselves. It was the “no-moon” in Doe’s terminology, a time of great celebration — and she planned to invite the Blackrock wolves and their Donnelaith allies to a night of storytelling and merrymaking. It seemed a frivolous thing to Szymon, whose needs were made of baser things, but he could deny her nothing. Thus, he arrived with sheepdog and foundling in tow.

They arrived just in time to hear the Tale of the Lost Testicles — which was, if you asked Szymon, an excruciating thing to think about. Indeed, he turned his head as though to make doubly sure that he was still intact; and once he was satisfied, he settled beside Doe and his pack daughter with a possessive air — he was as greedy as the witch doctor was — glaring particularly at Murgash, who was too close for Szymon’s liking. Chusi, he was certain, would be interested in making her rounds and greeting the other wolves; she appeared to be an outgoing, plucky creature. He felt a sense of dismay as the Vessel of the Sea — Shadow, Doe had called her — lingered at the territory borders as if she was unsure of her reception. He doubted she would have a story to tell, being that she had not spoken a single word since Szymon had met her, but he did not wish her to feel unwelcome when it was clear how fond Doe was of her.