Stavanger Bay the wrath of heaven

temperament: phlegmatic

it is from description alone, words passed from father and grandfather to him, as mercurial gaze settles upon the telltale landmarks that kraken knows he has finally made it to stavanger bay. for a moment, steps pause in the shifting dunes of sand as he studies the arching cliff: a nature made door inviting him inside. for the first time in a long time, he feels at ease with himself. the ever shift of his temperament is stolidly calm. he steps thru the arch and takes note, firstly, that he has finally made it to the land where his father and father before him have lived. this place is the cairn birthright as far as arinbjorn's ever been concerned.

it was why he'd left warsaw islands to come to the wilds in the first place.

the second note he takes as he trudges along the sands that he is not alone. there are two female scents intertwined here; fresh though they eventually split. a spur of pursuit — a deep seeded familial connection to the bay and his own rise of unfettered possession — is given for the scent that trails off nearest to him. it leads him to one of the two, whom is, upon closer inspection, tearing apart what appears to be a snake.

what is it that you intend to do with that serpent? for the first time in a long time, the kraken is the first to break the silence, fighting off the slight discomfort that being the first one to speak brings with it.