Stavanger Bay The seas may be rough, but I am the Captain!

it might not have been the friendly atmosphere desired, but dalia was so used to ford's bone-chilling calmness that his own strangeness hardly curbed her. it was only the fact that he held so much unknown power that drove her fear of him. and she'd learned from her mother to hide her emotions -- though she wasn't as good as portia at that, especially not in this state. she played off his personality, despite the wariness she felt he seemed rather chipper, and dalia could do chipper. "you'll help me clean it up once i'm done," she returned with a suave swish of her tail as she ducked into her den. she'd earned a bit of sass from all her encounters with velen and rannveig and saucy. 

her ears pressed forwards, and she nosed past him to dig through the herbs he'd made such a mess of. "i wouldn't refuse anyone," she added in regards to his comment, seeming to be digging for power over her. he had it, nonetheless. dalia had never held any power in any situation. she was submissive as could be. a loyal woman and a loyal packmate. it was how she would get herself into trouble, unfortunately, but also into wonderful situations. such as velen. dalia would never know how she was so lucky as to tie down such a wonderful man such as velen. he probably thought the same of her, but she didn't look at herself like that. 

when dalia turned again to address him, she held a few things in her jaws. a flower, for one, yellow and plump. she placed it beside them, on a stone, and used her paw to begin to press it into the surface, juices trickling out. "my name is dalia," she said simply, focused on the plant before her.