Stavanger Bay Tangled in Seaweed

The titan studied her expression when she had been granted permission to touch him. He was not fond of the touch of others, but he knew that he was required to help her in her time there. She was not wildly inappropriate with the grazing of her nose along his frame. The pale woman merely sought to stand beside him and to use him as a frame of reference for where she was. Only the soft brush of her light coat against his side was a sign that she needed him at all. Whether he was fond of it or not, Ford knew that he was capable of providing for her. In time, he knew that she would grow to be a powerful member of the rift – she would prove herself if given the right room to flourish.
 
Already, she had started to gather her herbs and medicines. The scent of what lingered on her coat reminded him of his mother, and he wondered for a moment what Deirdre was doing, or if she missed her home. Before the memories could be allowed to flood his mind, Ford cast them aside and focused on the company that he had so near to him.
 
Hymn mentioned that she had already found a suitable place to call her own, and that she had gathered as many dry herbs as she could to provide for others who might need them. When she spoke of fetching seaweed, he furrowed his brows and turned his head toward the lapping waves. “I could help you collect the seaweed,” he offered gruffly. As confident as she was out there, the warhound did not like the idea of her dipping below the surface of the water to search for plants. He did know that there would be a day when she would have been able to manage on her own, but he did not wish to risk it so soon.