Stavanger Bay dreams fighting machines inside my head like adversaries

The call of a stranger was enough to cup his ears forward and turn the sharp peering of his mismatched gaze in the direction of it. Some ways from where he was, there was a charcoal and silver shape – someone he had not yet crossed paths with. The howl had been sorrowful enough to warrant the attention of any in the area, but it seemed that they were the only two in that moment. The titan stood stiffly, following her with his sights until he felt the need to move forward and close the distance that was stretched between them. His limbs moved with purpose, but without hurry; the stranger did not appear as though they were departing just yet.

Once he had made his way across the beach, the warhound drew his crown upward and released an answering call – low and smoky in its exit. Once he had returned the sound, Ford latched his gaze to her shape and waited to see if she would meet him there, or if she would turn and depart from the bay. The wind whisked against his dark frame with a powerful swing before dying off. The taste of winter was on the air.