Stavanger Bay avast ye!

Kekoa was tired of eating seafood, but for a wolf who saw the world through the haze of a toad's umbrella it was the safest option for hunting.

Tearing through the delicate meat of a crab his gaze was blank and unthinking, but sharpened into a glare when another broke the soft silence of the sea. Head lifting he could spot the white wolf through the metaphorical mist, and for a moment the world was completely, utterly clear. Your offerings? He repeated.

Pushing to a momentarily shaky stand his judgement was clear; the stranger looked nothing like a ghost talker! And what was with the weird accent?