Stavanger Bay thorwald's cross

For a moment she could have sworn she scented someone on the air, but the muddling from the border markers and the briny salt of the sea made it impossible to tell. Were she a foolish beast, her feet would have taken her far into the territory, past what was reasonable and far beyond sanity. Her heart wished to explore the cliffs and look down upon the roaring sea and the murky depths below.

But she did not find herself ever lacking self-preservation so, instead, she angled her muzzle upward and howled a long, haunting note of desire to the wolves within that they might come meet with her. It was a risk, she knew. The pack within could possibly take great offense to strangers seeking to steal their time. She had no gifts to offer them; even her tongue lacked the stories and tales that could pass as currency in parts of the world.

Instead she simply stood as herself. Bold and bright against the backdrop of a dingy gray sky.