Stavanger Bay the dead horse shanty

@Arturo maybe?

The weather had started on a steady climb toward the warmth of late spring and early summer. While snow still lined many of the territories that rested inland, the bay seemed to have come to life with a passing night. The sands had begun to collect the small hints of warmth from the sun, fish had gathered courage to swim closer to the shore in search of bugs, and the foliage was starting to turn their small paradise into a lush setting. Even with the burst of good luck that they were receiving, Smokestep had still been forced to rid their land of Awinita’s body and offer her to the sharks of the black rock. They had lost one of the crew, and it had happened so close to their home. The pallid young Captain was still rather startled that it had occurred so quickly. She had only just started settling in.
 
On that day, he waded out so that the waters brushed against his chest as they rolled into the shore. The two tones of his gaze followed the distant horizon with interest before he made an effort to keep a watchful eye for signs of fish. Smokestep had been looking to gather enough to feed the crew on their first gathering. He had even scoured the woods in search for berries and herbs in hopes of making rum but had not found very many. Smokestep’s ears stood tall atop his crown as he watched a few fish draw near to him and then dart away.