Stavanger Bay i'm moving into stillness

A call lilted overhead in the form of a melodic and feminine voice. Smokestep had found himself buried half way in the sand, digging in search of a stray crab that had pinched his lip and disappeared into the granules of the earth. Reeling, the pale marauder turned his muzzle in the direction of the caller and snorted softly at the crab that would need to be abandoned for better purpose. Shaking the sand from his coat, the white yearling turned tail and trotted steadily toward the stranger on the edges of the bay. His limbs allowed him to travel with speed across the stretch of earth, and in no time at all he had found himself standing before her with his head high and a crooked smirk twisting his dark lips upward.
 
“Ahoy, lassie,” he greeted her in a pleasant bark. “What brings ye to me borders?” At this, the pale man canted his head to the left and waited for the woman to speak. All the while, his gaze roamed her figure with interest. She was pleasing to the eyes, forcing him to wonder what might have happened that he would be granted all of the stunning women who had joined his crew. The girls were strong and hard-headed folk, and he knew that they made for great pirates once they had earned their sea legs. Smokestep would never complain about having too many women aboard his ship.