Stavanger Bay Valentines for the single man

With a tilting of her crown she seems to take the the little nickname he had thought up for her. An otter, which is ways she could remind him of such (if not a rocky beach on a cloudy in itself) with her coating patterns and the shade of them. Like a river otter which dances and glided and soured through the waters as though they were born within them. 

No. Only the Sea. Why? And with his wonder he lifts up, gingered ears perking curiously. Rotten fruit in the winter? Very unlikely but where did she get the idea?