Stavanger Bay take what you can, give nothin' back!

There was success in his retaliation. Ford found purchase with his fangs in the skull of the other man. He bit down as hard as he could muster before the other fellow tore himself away. Everything was drowning in the sounds of the ocean beating against the shore. The titan could feel his rage building, but he fought desperately to maintain the control that he had over his body and instinct. The orange-tinged brute did not waste time in this moment. After having freed himself from Ford's grip, the stranger lunged with the force of his body and struck the warhound firmly against his chest.

There was a sickening wheeze as the air was sucked from his lungs. He pitched his head back and parted his jaws, hoping that he could fill himself with oxygen again. This was his mistake. The force at which he was struck was enough that his body was thrown backwards. There was a split second in which his body seemed to be suspended in air – back to the ground – before he was dropped to the earth by the vicious pull of gravity and the force that had been applied to his massive frame.

A sickening crack sounded as his skull was slammed into a large stone, half buried in the sands. Blood pooled from the back of his head and coated the protruding rock, but Ford did not move. His eyes were half-closed. The jutting of the stone had wedged at the base of his skull and between his shoulder blades. The crack had been devastating. Blood had formed in his skull and was leaking through the crack in his head. The light of the bay did not reach his gaze. Instead, Ford had slipped into a dismal void of darkness and hopelessness.