Stavanger Bay i've been trying to fix my pride

For a moment the woman watched the waves as they rose and crashed on the shore, angry and vengeful. These were the isles of the fallen gods, those who longed for a greatness that could not be contained. Those sharks and krakens, the leviathans of the deep, they were gone. Fallen, like the druids of the forest, and everything had fallen to pieces in her absence. Perhaps the good that Palisander was had kept the horrors of the world at bay. Now it was an upcoming war, a violent promise of the horrors to come, it would be fleeing in the night to gain the freedom to raise the next generation of the Family in relative safety. 

Hemlock had begun towards the sea both to claim her coat in salt and brine and equal parts to drag some seaweed back to Teaghlaigh. Perhaps she could stuff her cougar skull like some crude cache and bring it along - just in case - a sound caught her attention and she froze, body tensing as another figure approached. Clearly, this creature was far more at home in the sand than she was, each step seeming to cause her some difficulty. Hemlock watched her for a moment before recognition flashed between them; however she couldn't remember who she was or where they'd met before. No doubt some random notions in her travels, or a memory lost to the concussion from the Dragon wolf. 

Still, Hemlock offered a nod, her body relaxing a bit as she looked to the dark female and her svelte self. "Hello," She offered, though Hemlock was uncertain of what she was doing; everything seemed so...so undone to her now. The entire world had changed, and she was struggling to adapt to the notion of those changes.