Stavanger Bay i've been trying to fix my pride

Hemlock's brow furrowed for a moment as she watched this unknown stranger; well, it wasn't as if they'd never met before, but she still didn't have a name for the beautiful dark wolfdog. She seemed to tell a story all her own though, eyes passing solemnly across the lands as if she was familiar with them. Once upon a time, there had been so many more there. Now, the empire crumbled. Teaghlaigh was the last remaining holder of it's legacy, since she knew that Arturo had called this place home for awhile, as well. 

The woman seemed far more familiar with the male and Hemlock swallowed back a snort when he made it known she had a story. "I have several." She said, tight lipped because she didn't know him, and as such, he was not privy to the details of her life. When she'd met the dark wolf she had been Isley, and now, she'd shed that name and buried it with her husband in the forest nearby. "Today my tale involves gathering seaweed. I serve as a healer." She offered simply. 

It wasn't much of an olive branch, Hemlock had never considered herself one who dealt in peace. Instead it was a simple way to return her to her task; if they wanted to come along and play in the bitter waters then she wouldn't stop them. It seemed the dark woman had no problems in the sea and her antics brought a soft, if brief, smile to Hemlock's face.