Stavanger Bay Song of the waves

The brute watched as her attention was turned toward him. Easily, he could have deciphered that she was blind before she made an attempt to comment on it. The milky look in her gaze was enough to tell him. It was very unlike the warhound's own ghostly white optic – her eye was glossed over and clouded with a sightless film. It was just as good as if they were closed. While the titan did not feel pity for other creatures, he did not quite understand the difficulties of her handicap; that his sight had offered him a great deal of strength in the world around them, and it was a miracle that she had survived as long as she had.

When the pale woman moved to close the space between them, Ford stiffened his broad frame. The touch of her nose against him was enough to illicit a curled lip and a rumble of thunder from the back of his throat. The stormbringer clapped his teeth against each other in an attempt to refrain from snapping at the bridge of her muzzle. There was a dangerous glint in the mismatched colors of his eyes, but they still betrayed no emotion. Were it not for the moment having only lasted a few moments, she would have felt the touch of his wrath against her frame. Instead, she pulled back from him and he bore into her with a cold expression that she could not have seen.

There was a fumbling for an excuse that cupped his ears forward and furrowed his brow. Touching was her way of seeing him, which he could understand. However, the girl was right that she should have asked his permission before having done so. She was lucky he had not acted on his instinct. With a sharp exhale that released a plume from his flared nostrils, Ford drew his crown upward and nodded. “You will ask before doing it again,” the titan instructed her in a gruff tone. In that, he meant with any of the wolves in his pack; for her safety and the safety of others.

“How will you survive the winter if you cannot see?”