Stavanger Bay I have no home; I make awareness my dwelling.

To be alone was a struggle for most wolves that were not assigned to a pack, it was dangerous. For him it was dangerous for others when he was around, and without his master to give him a more direct plan of attack (or leniency) the beast was left to his own devices—this was most likely, the reason why so many had fallen to his dark urges. To be alone was safe. To be alone meant he could attempt some reflection. What would Skellige do?

But he was not alone for long. The swarthy woman's approach was charaterized by weakness, and that alone drew his attention from the pool. He watched her in silence, listened as she spoke to him, but did not comment even after she bade him to. Beneath the scent of the sea was the scent of Cairn upon her—and this had Tetsubo transfixed. The slightest motion of his head was all that she gained from her posturing, until he lurched towards her, closing the distance between them without so much as a flicker of warning. He did not rake his teeth through her flesh as his desire called, though. He lunged with his snout, and began to investigate her scent more thoroughly (whether she was comfortable or not); the metallic scent of blood was there, enticing him, but so too were the wolf-scents.

And there, Cairn. He drew back once this was confirmed.
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