Stavanger Bay they caught the katy, and left me a mule to ride

arcturus would never fully tire of the way the wind changed sail by the sea; it was not like the raking wind which howled for miles up and down the 'spear. this wind was a different wind -- a wind of song and travel, which ferried here and there along the passing tides and currents, rifling his fur softly as summer's gentle breath.

he felt he was being watched. this sensation persisted as he lowered his muzzle and looked about him, coming at last to rest on a figure that was pale and hooded.

blackface.

arcturus' fur lifted, his hackles parting down his spine as he studied her with an animal's wariness. only to find his knee-jerk reaction was unwarranted, for he recognized her now as the woman that had accompanied his sister what seemed a life time ago.

at loss for words, and wanting little to do with the perceived consort of his sister, arcturus felt his spine straighten and he turned to leave.