Sea Lion Shores the halls of our fathers

100th post for you!

Ragna watched him hunt with sharp eyes, paying keen attention to every move he made. There was much to be learned in observation, and she would glean what she could from Szymon. For though they were both raised by the sea, he was older, and her wanderings had taken her away from the depths. She took his teasing for what it was, just friendly ribbing. Let's see what you can do, then, she urged him. And she watched, ignoring her kill to watch him churn the waters and capture his fish.

A sea wolf after all, she mocked, but not unkindly. She grinned, mischief flickering in her gaze, then bent her head to eat. She did not miss the way he wolfed down his meal, but thought little of it. Defensive eating was the way of some wolves, particularly those that were perpetually at the bottom of the totem pole. She was more leisurely about it, and was still picking at the bones of her fish when they resumed their conversation. No, she said. She still did not know where her brothers were, but the idea of starting a pack with them thrilled her. The four of them at the helm of a pack of vikings! They could do anything like that. As it was, she saw no harm in telling him where the Malkaria resided. There is a Copse to the south. They are peaceful wolves.

Suddenly she stood, deciding she wanted another fish. I will hunt again, she declared, leaving behind the bones of her fish and striding back towards the rocks.