Stavanger Bay pull a walmart and roll back the attitude

aw and welcome to fights/spars

if you had asked him if he was bored, velen would have promptly scoffed and answered that he was indeed not bored. it was the truth — there was much to keep him occupied, patrols, hunting, teasing dalia and saucy where he could. there was so much to do, in fact, that the warsaw yearling was pounding in a flat-out, madden streak along the shoreline, the entire wing of an unfortunate gull clasped in his jaws.
it was attached to a very dead bird, which clattered limply against velen's shoulder as he ran. the entire scene was rather macabre, but not to the mayfair-cairn, who saw bloodsport as possessing the same innocuous nature one might consider golf to have. he whooped madly through his mouthful of feathers, lunging into the air for a leap that seemed airborne for a long moment.