Stavanger Bay the lighthouse

The forest faded into sparse trees that lined the area just before the shore. Knaven stood on the edge of those two worlds with a pensive expression. The light from overhead was dim; heavy clouds rolled in, threatening them with more rainfall. Even born by the sea, the yearling had never been so wet in his entire life. He wondered how it would impact the change in seasons, and whether it would prove to be useful to the terrain. Surely, more water could not do them harm. Still, he missed the feeling of the warm summer sun.
 
Stepping through the trees and down onto the sands, Knaven dropped his head to search for signs of potential claimers. It did not seem that the bay had housed any one pack in some time. Still, he could catch wind of the few travelers who had passed through. The longer that he stared at it, the more disgruntled he felt. Their father had spoken so reverently of the bay. He had expected much more.