Stavanger Bay when I go

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Out there down the coast, the moon reflects onto the sands. Silvered and gray and as Aiolos moves nearer, he realizes it to be a wolf. Large, far more then himself, but with a calm and fluid nature as she moved along the water's edge. Perhaps Mother Moon had decided to walk among mortals this night and Aiolos finds himself freezing in his place by the awe of such a thought.

The wolf in front of him too, pauses. His breath hitches. The fire in his eyes meeting the churning of clouds in her own. Calling forth the winds, his Goddesses bring him from his reverie. The smell of sea salt and her scent capture his memories. He too whispers her name but does not stop here.

He finds his footing again, kicking up sand as he gallops into the beautiful maidens direction. As he comes to her, a whine slips from parted jaws reaching to lick at her aging face.