Stavanger Bay rough and tumble

The call did not go without notice on the edges of the rift. The lumbering titan of the water caught wind of it in his patrol. Once he’d heard the summons, his lengthy limbs carried him swiftly across the sands and grass toward where he believed her to be. Once he had latched his mismatched gaze on her pale figure, he slowed his pace to a relaxed trot and closed the remaining distance between them. When he neared her figure, he drew his crown upward and peered at her with a calculated stare. For a moment, he only allowed the sound of silence to fill the space between them. Beyond where they stood, the soft churning of the waves acted as a background noise.
 
“Welcome to Stormrift,” Ford greeted her in a smoky baritone. His dark tail wavered at his hocks before holding still. “How might I assist you?” the warhound then inquired to her with a slight tilting of his head. There was no emotion in his stare, but his features were still pleasant in spite of this. Something lived beneath the surface of the great titan, but it was not so easily uncovered, and this stranger would likely not see these things at all.