Stavanger Bay Love is just a game

“Oi! Wot did that scurvy dungbie do to ye, lass? I am sure glad ye taught 'im a lesson,” the swashbuckler returned with a cracking smirk and a soft chuckle. After pulling up at her front, the pirate regarded her with a few sweeping gazes before settling on the gold of her eyes. His tail waved softly between his hocks, but the corsair held his head high. “I don't want nothin' to do wit' 'em if they're as nasty as ye say,” he then responded to her inquiry with a shudder and a feigned expression of concern.

“'Sides... I can catch me own meals.”

Roz appeared as though she was doing well in the bay. She had not changed much physically in spite of the chill that had settled across the waters. The sun seemed to show its face on very rare occasions, and Smokestep was starting to miss the burn of summer against his pelt. It would be nice when her grasp was finally released on the territory that they sought to claim. He should like to show Rosalyn a few tricks in the swell, if he was granted the chance. He glanced toward the water and made a tsking sound, as if the thought had sprung to him suddenly instead of having sat in his mind for several long moments. “How is the bay treatin' ye?”