Stavanger Bay Troverai quella mia timidezza

@Valentine :D

Before he knew it the grass under his feet had turned into sand. The land here faced leeward and was buffed smooth with sandpaper wind. It stung his face and coarsened his fur. The sky was nearly a true blue now - save for the fiery fringes of the horizon, like the yellowed edges of old paper - and the shadows glowed with it. 

He let the tide lap at his feet as he sat hunched, the fur of his ruff turned up like a collar against the gale.