Stavanger Bay the Cairn Kiln

isengrim proudly marched behind his mother; while he was unsure of where they were going, he knew it was somewhere important. occasionally he'd worry julep and whiskey's heels with sharp nips (even prialux was not immune to this form of torment), but as the climb grew higher his energy drained. when at last they crawled to the summit he was keenly aware that he was tired, miserable, and cold.

the wind here was harsher than any wind he had experienced before; in awe he overlooked the thundering seas below them. he didn't know it, but this very vantage the name for their territory -- below him the sea roared and clamored with more force than anything isengrim had ever witnessed before.

feeling somewhat of a daredevil (and not at all cognizant this was the reason why he was here) isengrim clambered towards the edge boldly, casting his sister a somewhat taunting grin: betcha won't get as close to the rim as i am, his expression seemed to say.