Stavanger Bay When the sun is high

The child pressed herself against the sand, an action which would normally please Doe, but now twisted uncomfortably at her heartstrings. "Hi!" she repeated, adopting the girl's vernacular in an attempt at camaraderie, lowering her own body as she trotted toward the girl, intent on thoroughly investigating her.

"What's your name?" she asked when she'd drawn near enough that the wind would not whip away her murmurs. A snipey nose was extended to poke curiously at the girl's sides, heedless of any protest she might have to this action. Snuffling mightly into the pale fur of the child, Doe surmised that she must have come only recently to the bay - there was still an earthy scent to the girl. One that Doe associated with the tiny Qilaq she'd stolen from the woods, but not the almost-grown Qilaq she called her daughter.