Stavanger Bay catskills in january

The sea did not relinquish her easily - her gut was gripped again and again as she emptied her stomach upon the sands, and when Mannoah could finally lift her head, it was to see a hulking beast drawing nearer. Though outwardly she merely straightened, her heart quailed at the look of wrath upon his face.

Still, blank, unreadable, Mannoah stood her ground as he approached, projecting neither haughtiness nor deference. Only the flicker of her ears as she took in his words betrayed her nervousness.

Though the words were meaningless to the foreign woman, the tone in which they were spoken was not lost on her. The white-banded man held her in little esteem, and meant, in all probability, to do harm to her. The thought was displeasing, to say the least.

Seeing no way out of the situation, Mannoah finally moved, lowering her belly to the ground and waiting for the wolf to make his move. Her legs were coiled to spring, but she didn't. Not yet. Burning orbs scanned the horizon once more before cutting back to the male, cagey and fierce.

Do your worst, they said. I am ready.