Alpine Lake dirt

The Sea was always grand to Gunnar. It was the one thing he had missed, and had not strayed far from. Anytime he was a loner, he always went back to the sea. The sea with her majestic pearls and tears, the flow and ebb of her deep waters. The salty tang that tainted your fur, and tested your tongue.

Gunnar frowned, and then with gentle coaxing of tongue, he attempted her name. It was not much different than some of the names his father would pronounce as he had grown, though it was not norse, it was similar, though he probably still butchered it. "Pleasure is al l mine Ikniqpalagah, Nig. You have offered me a nickname, so i will offer you one. For most of my youth I was simply known as Tveir." 

Tveir bowed his head at her warming praise. Gunnar watched as the water arched above her tail, glimmering in the sunlit rays. Water, so beautiful. 

"It does my old heart good to speak with others. Tell me Nig. Do you live around here? In these cold places?