Blackbeak Bluff My Favorite Hour

The dark she-wolf returned his greeting with one of her own before she swept her muzzle toward the sea and made a remark about the view. The two tones of his gaze followed and he nodded swiftly to agree. “Quite the view? Oi miss, yer lookin' at the best view in the whole wide world,” he woofed softly. A peculiar sort of fondness was had for the seaside and the ocean breeze. It was not easily explained, but perhaps lied in the upbringing of the pallid yearling. Smokestep was born of the water and would die by her side. He imagined that nothing in between would matter much at all. The marauder found that those with a common mindset were difficult to find.

“Ye just enjoin' the sights, then?” the pirate inquired with a tilt of his crown and an inquisitive expression. Some came for the sunsets and the early morning light, but others remained behind after all of those had faded. The young Cairn was not entirely sure which this one would be, but he anticipated that some coercing would benefit the both of them.