Stavanger Bay Warpless

Her maw parted in a yawn.  When her teeth clicked together and her eyes opened again, she spotted the pale guy heading her way.  Huh.  Godot wondered if he'd be like the one she'd chased off.  From his pose, it seemed unlikely -- this guy seems more like the ones she'd met in the past.  It made it far less likely that her saying a few weird words and pretending to be a cannibal would give her the upper hand.  For now, she stayed put, perhaps a bit overconfident thanks to Engle, but she became much more uncertain when she heard his words.  His bay?  Er? she started, her nose desperately searching for a moment while her mind tried to process what she might have stepped in to.  There wasn't a pack here, right?  Unless all the wolves smelled exactly the same.  This was just some dude who decided to live here, right? Those dens were abandoned!  If only she knew about clones.

Your bay? Her voice wavered a moment.  Um.  Stopped for a break?  There are necromancers inland.  I wanted to get farther away from them.  Though she was fairly certain in her words, she was doing her damnedest to control her unease, but that was more over the fact she'd maybe missed something rather than him outright frightening her.  However, what she didn't know was what pirates were.  Godot had been an inland wolf her whole life -- her stories of magic and mystery didn't include the giant void that was the sea.  That might very well have freaked her out too.