Stavanger Bay ivits' par-tay times!

@Doe <3

it was a miracle she survived this long.

literally.

the hag was a bundle of crooked bones, her spine awry on account of the miles she had travelled in circles; looking for really anything to shake the amnesia from her head full of cobwebs. more than a few times had she awoken to squint her eyes, unable to recall exactly how she had ended up there at that moment in time. this was one of these times. pulling herself from the alcove under the sand, she snorted, half awake and half blind. the matted fur of her eyebrows had grotesquely grown to an immense mass of hair to cover more than 75% of her visual aid. unable to recognise the great mass of water that currently faced her through her own dirt and sand covered hair and her constant amnesia, the hag peered long and hard (squinty eyes and all) at the water's edge, attempting and failing to recall where the feck she was. 

"hayyy-LOOOO?" her strangled, croaky tones called to the ocean; elderly nose crinkled with both dismay and repulsion. at her age, everything was disgusting and life had totally lost meaning; wuathlia had often got up to no good in search of death but to no avail. she had lost her tail searching for Hell, and she didn't even remember it. 

minutes later, a soft, damp feeling behind to fester at her behind and she grunted, hobbling over a few steps to relieve the wet damp feeling from her hind-quarters. this was called winter. "ooff! vut the feck?!" she screeched as it became aware to her that she was located in a bank of snow, freezing her bananas off.  "off off off off!" the old woman screeched at the white mass, furious that the disgusting, graceful snowflakes had chosen her to nest and breed on. "deist-gust-inguh! no hanky panky on meh!" she observed as the tiny white scoundrels seemed to increase their numbers ontop of her. from a distance, one would observe an elderly, matted, witch-like woman screeching at her own butt. it was quite the sight.

minutes from then, she would abruptly forget her own rantings and stare blankly at the bay, and her day would begin again.