Stavanger Bay rows of houses sound asleep

It was time.

The earthen stone rose, and limber trees swayed with the shift between their branches. Twin lights blinked from within a face masked by its own shadows, and painted by those cast by the glowing set of dusk. He had wandered, watched, and waited; he had done so long enough. Albatross circled overhead, low enough for their calls to find their way down to the expanse of loamy soil shifting to sand. Gallows slipped between the sentinels and stopped short of crossing the divide.

Distant, his ears picked up the familiar rise of shanties and laughter, and he closed his eyes. The shoreline swam with the scent of wolfkind and fermentation amidst the saltwater sting. It all brought his lips to quiver with the slightest perk. How he had missed this, and Gallows exhaled in a settled breath and brought his head to tip toward the seabirds. There were no second thoughts nor hesitation to give. His deep voice slid forth to glide across the sands, to summon these pirates and beckon out the pallid captain at their helm.