Stavanger Bay you are the night-time terror

A skeleton brought to life was accurate; he was nothing but bones – inside and out. A listless, sea-bound wraith that had been brought to life by the spirits of the water. If she were to closely examine him, she would have seen the emptiness in his black and white gaze. She would have noted the lack of emotion that lingered in the hollowness of his stare. Instead, she was met with a ghostly upturning of his dark lips. With this, the burly limbs moved him forward to close the remaining distance between them.

The stranger's greeting had been soft – non threatening – but she still remained on his beach. It had drawn close to a time in which the titan did not feel comfortable with the unknown wandering through his home. After the attack had happened to Dalia, he felt as though he needed to take an adamant stand against passersby. Their numbers had grown to a decent size; the tides had turned, and he was required to protect those who had sought to follow in his path.

“You've found yourself on my beach,” the warhound remarked in a smoky baritone that lingered in the air like the fresh draw of thunder. His brow furrowed and he cast an expectant look to the albino female. She did not seem troubled that she had found herself smack dab in the middle of the Stormrift hold.