Stavanger Bay And heard the sweetest sound,

The woman—drenched—came and met him swiftly. She carried with her a fish, though left it behind in the grouping of its dead kin. Her inquiry was merely a word:

"Ironclan?"

He nodded in reply—assuming the same was true for herself. Yeah, He answered, laconic—choosing not to explain himself unless she cared enough to ask. Then, gestured vaguely to her little stash of fish. These for the cache?