Stavanger Bay you've buried all your alimony butterflies

@Mannoah backdated to shortly after her arrival

 

The limp was driving him mad.
 
He attempted to push through the pain that still stretched the muscles of his injured limb. It did little to settle the aggression that coursed through his body and had begun to sink into the twisting maze of his mind. Not even the tossing of the sea could curb that ferocity. Nevertheless, he had tried – tried and failed one too many times. The wraith could not stand to not be in control. Of all the things that had been stripped from him, his own wellbeing could not be one of them.
 
The swaying steps carried him back toward the cavern that was his den. He thought of Deirdre, and how much he wished that he could cross into the wood and wrap himself around her. Skellige was losing his patience, and he thought only to consummate their promised relationship. The King of Thorns and the Flower Queen; she was sure to produce beautiful children for him.
 
So instead, he had gotten drunk on plum whiskey, and he had sought to bury himself in the darkness of his den for the evening. The scent of the woman’s heat had wafted through the air and found its way into the breath that filled his nares. The whiskey was fueling his actions further than he would have wished it to, but the will of the great ones was to be fulfilled.
 
With a curling lip, the great titan sought to follow the alluring aroma that brought the promise of children to his lands.