Stavanger Bay i'm moving into stillness

It was not the idea she would never understand their way of life that bothered him as much as the thought of what wanderlust could do to a soul when they were trapped. He had heard tale of crews that had gathered all the wrong blood, only to find the crew disbanded after a short while; each member having ventured to something else that piqued their interest. Smokestep was not interested in watching his legacy fall; he knew that he could not fail in his conquest of the bay. The sandy girl, though, felt comfortable with the promise of loyalty, and the pirate smiled upon her agreement. It would mean another woman within his ranks, but he had never found himself in too difficult of a situation with the lasses he had already gathered. Ava was welcome.
 
Sweeping his head to allow her entrance onto the bay’s grounds, the corsair regarded her with a cocked brow and a curled half-smile on his leathery lips. “Me name’s Smokestep,” he introduced with a small bow of his tall frame. “An ye’ll have plenty of chance to earn yerself a new name here, miss Ava. Ye’ve entered the land o’ pirates, an we’re keen on keepin’ the crew as safe as possible. Once ye earn yer sea legs, ye’ll earn yerself a new callin’,” he explained then.