Stavanger Bay the night of long fangs

The explanation came to him in a flurry. The words of the lad were composed and understanding in a way that most children did not posses. It was not as though he had fumbled his words or spoke with haste. It was the manner in which the king of the sea understood him. It was almost a praising to the ancients of the swell. This child was what they had promised to him. He had been foolish to believe the young Sharkbait had been the answer to his many questions. Rannoch was the one the waters had intended and he wondered if he would suffer punishment for having doubted the fates of his people. 

A quiet huff fell from the titan's inky lips and he slowed his gait for a moment to turn his crown and face the child. "You will be strong here, my boy. You will know a new strength from these seas and the breath of the wind. I am pleased and proud that you show such growth," he rumbled in a surprisingly devoted baritone. As if on queue, the winds whispered into the tufts of his ears and the jagged fur along his nape danced wildly against its touch. Skellige knew his soul to truly be connected with his land. He was urged to ensure that the boy would know the same feeling. 

"Are you prepared to stay here? Truly... are you accepting of this blessing - that of the vicious black rock?" he then asked. It was as if he had lost control of his own voice. The powers of the ancient spirits that he so devotedly fought for had spoken for him. The wraith had been nothing more than a vessel.