Stavanger Bay there she shot poor william taylor

The frustration that was written across her features was enough to be felt. Smokestep cast her an encouraging smile that lifted the sides of his features as he trotted toward her and closed some of the distance between them. Once nearer to where she was, he was able to more closely examine the large protruding hunk of tree. Smokestep was a people pleaser, and he didn’t want to let the girl down. Taking a few sniffs, he plunged his head into the sea and peered at where it had been lodged into the sand and ocean, firmly rooting itself in a place where it did not belong. Once he pulled his crown from the waters, he looked at her with rapidly blinking eyes and shook his head to release droplets back to the swell.
 
“Looks like it’s in there deep, aye? Ye’ve got some strength in ye. Color me impressed,” the pirate remarked to her with a quick grin. “Let’s see if I can give it a dig while ye tug, an maybe we’ll get this thing loose,” he then suggested with a firm nod. Smokestep had been trained young to hold his breath beneath the water, so he wasn’t concerned with being down there too long. It did seem as though he found some worry in the idea that he would need to dig at sand that was soaked through and likely to fall back where it had been pulled from. Still, he felt encouraged by her spirit and wanted to assist as best as he could.