Stavanger Bay my heart is broke, but i have some glue

rannveig would always have an inexplicable connection to water; it was in his blood, his heart, his soul. as the waves pulled over and spat him out he watched the large form of his brother soar over head, his ass so fat it blocked out the sun form briefly eclipsing the sky before a catastrophic wave announced his impact with the river.

he grinned to see such play in ford -- a wolf rannveig thought sometimes had less humor than a stone ('what kind of stone?' dalia would ask 'soMe sToNEs ArE mOrE hUmORous ThAN oThERS! i WOUld knOW I aM aN eXPERT ON rOckS! eSpeciALlY ThE BIG oNE iN yOur HeAd.') - he waited for ford's head to submerge, and then he delivered a splash of his paw aimed directly for his big ole eye sockets.

ops!