Ocean's Breath Plateau won't give pause until the blood is flowing

Her name was pretty, the name of a bird. His mother had been fond of birds, pointing them out to himself and his brothers when they were young. But he couldn't remember now what a wren looked like. It was something he would have to ask another individual, because his mother and brothers were gone now. 

I'm Lovecraft, he spoke, his voice carrying its usual low, soft tone. His crooked smile was still in place as he took his gaze reluctantly away from her blue eyes and glanced out over the ocean, wind continuing to play with his shaggy fur. This is the first time I've ever seen the ocean. It's shocking to look at, he confided.