Stavanger Bay white elephant in the room

He did not seem to appreciate her nearness. So be it. Mannoah began to furiously groom her paws and forlegs, which had not been tainted by her vomit but seemed offensively soiled to her all the same.

Sand. Mannoah hated sand.

She paused when the small wolf finally reacted, placing his head atop hers. Nonplussed, Mannoah flapped and ear to feel it brush against his face. So this is what passes for attention, here, she thought, one lip curling up over her teeth in a show that was more disapproval than anger. But the pup could not be faulted for his paltry attention-giving skills. Perhaps he had not been taught, or perhaps it was simply not yet in him to seek the approval of a woman. (Eventually, he would learn. They all learned.)

"Bueno," she snapped - That's enough! - pulling her head away and raking a sharp stare over the youth, as if by the power of her burning gaze she could force him to understand her.