Stavanger Bay nobody makes me bleed my own blood

Moorhen was a little surprised to hear she was only the third addition to the little band of seafarers — these packs usually seemed to spring up out of the aether. It must surely be fate to have found herself here in the pack's infancy.

"Ja," she agreed, not recognizing Umbra's words quite as a command. It certainly seemed like a good idea, and she would be sure to mark the borders, of course, because she was a responsible wolf — but she was not accustomed to taking orders from anyone, and so it would take her some time to recognize them when it happened.

Moorhen gave her dark pelt a brisque shake, signaling to the other woman that she was readying herself for departure. She did not have anywhere in particular to be, but standing here and making conversation was no great comfort to the erne. "Shall we?" the woman invited, her tail bouncing jovially above her hocks as she began to pick her way down the rise and toward the bay itself. She thought nothing of this action; Coelacanth had walked alongside her, and the rest, usually just behind.