Stavanger Bay dreams fighting machines inside my head like adversaries

It was peculiar how fate seemed to have toyed with him when he had stood firm in his belief against it. He had not encountered nearly as many creatures who appeared to belong beside him as he had in the wilds. The longer that he spent there, the more he understood how his father had been drawn to the place. As different as he was from his sire, the titan found it far more impressive that he was capable of rounding up those who spoke to a particular place in his bones – the marrow of what he had constructed himself out of. The woman of inky points spoke and claimed that she had been forged from the tempests.

To that, Ford afforded her the ghostly curling of his dark lips.

It seemed as though she spoke all the right words to appeal to him – as much as anyone could appeal to the nature of a stormy sky. The warhound furrowed his brows and turned his gaze to the lapping waters. It would have been a great disservice if he did not invite her into their fold; she was one of them who truly belonged and would have helped them strengthen their bond. So, with a sidelong glance from a ghostly optic, the brutal figure latched one eye to her features.

“You would do well with our brood – Stormrift. We seek the growth that can only be granted by overcoming our weaknesses, and by creating a bond with the storms.”