Stavanger Bay Where is your rider

It was not in his best interest to be as predictable as he was. At least, it wasn’t in his best interest if he was searching for a moment of privacy. The crew had been a lively bunch, and he had only ever been eager to keep them well-fed and happy within the borders of the bay. They’d offered their lives to the crew, after all; he was only obliged to make them feel as though it had been a worthy trade. In this act, the long-legged ghost had run himself relatively ragged with the upkeep. He sought to hunt those who had deserted as well as tried to remain in the pack in case he should be needed for anything. It was unfortunate that there was really only one of him to accomplish the tasks he’d so ambitiously set out to do.
 
Walking at a slow pace along the borders, the pallid corsair caught sight of a familiar russet shape approaching his direction. Anticipating that she would wish to speak with him, the young Captain slowed his pace further and fell into a standstill. His mismatched gaze searched her sharp yellow eyes as she approached; he could see the buds of a conversation brewing within her. “Wot are ye up to, lass?” he barked to her in question.