Stavanger Bay all of my guilt and the way that i'm built, i don't sleep so well

*visits*

Born a lakeside trollop— nestled low in the pines beside a crumbling rock-spine of grim cliffs— Quill had little to no experience with your majesty, the ocean. She had seen it before, from a watchtower's view, but nothing had thus far driven her to endeavor its beaches. Until she had gone several weeks without running into any of her three brothers, and a crippling withdrawal from their attentions began to set in, leading her to risk the venture of someplace new.

She was still getting accustomed to walking in the cold, shifting sand when her nose caught a waft of fresh border-scent. The beartrap loped after the pungent smell, lip curling inquisitively as she spotted a massive skeleton-brand in the distance. Keeping her distance, and her muzzle into the breeze, she watched his actions for a moment, and wondered idly how good she would be in a fight on this terrain.