Stavanger Bay her early leaf's a flower

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The black-banded Cairn continued to regard his wife with stubborn defiance, seeing in her golden eyes the promise of malice — but it was Doe who submitted, flattening her oversized ears and glancing askance. The rumbling within his breast died down to a murmur before fading fully into silence, though his lips crimped downward in frustration as she turned away from him completely and wrapped her equally damp body around their daughter. “You are both wet,” he reminded her crossly, his tone as icy as hers. “Wait.” Turning, he sprinted the short distance back to the den to retrieve the spotted hide, taking a moment to whip it furiously back and forth — as much to vent his frustration as to get the sand out of it. Qilaq’s voice echoed in his ears — “did I do bad?” — and he bit down harder on the fawnskin, peppering its edges with new punctures to add to the multitude that Doe had produced. He added to his bundle two rabbits from Doe’s favorite cache, and lugged the three items back to the shore with him. “You did good, Qilaq,” he said finally, his timbre taut with tension. “You are a good cub. A good daughter. You did good.” He emphasized the word, willing the girl to believe him, and settled the rabbits between the girl and the woman without looking directly at his willful bride.

Hesitantly, fully expecting to be snapped at, Szymon pulled the spotted hide up and over Doe’s hips and flank. “You are wet,” he muttered by way of explanation. He didn’t particularly feel comfortable playing big spoon to her little one after their altercation and settled on Qilaq’s other side so that she was nestled between them both. Then, leaning forward, Szymon began to groom the darkling child — his child, blessed by the Sea; he allowed a whisper of that fierce joy to work its way to the forefront — but his ministrations were thwarted by a sudden chuff that burst weakly from his lips. Why he had the urge to laugh, he couldn’t rightly say — it was a completely inappropriate time — but laugh he did, all the tension and worry spilling out of him as he choked out a bone-weary chuckle. “My whole life,” he muttered, forcing himself to begin grooming his girl once more, “I just watched my whole life leap off that fucking cliff.” He didn’t say it to anyone in particular — it just…spilled out of him, and he couldn’t explain the sudden tightness in his throat. His ministrations weren’t as gentle as Doe’s, and they weren’t meant to be. He licked the moisture from Qilaq’s fur with a vengeful air, using the rough strokes of his tongue to encourage blood flow and help warm her until she was ready to walk back to the den. “If she cannot walk,” he said to Doe without looking at her, “I can carry her. Just put her on my back and keep her steady.”

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