one god, one land, one king

@Burke !

Somewhere between the time of his arrival and the current day, Stavanger Bay became home to him. Though at first the sea was new and intimidating, the gentle roar of its crashing waves was now such a common sound that he felt the world too quiet when he strayed far from its shores. Indeed, he had come to love the place for what it was, still an enigma, but one he would long tarry in, if fate allowed it.

And therein lay the problem for Aesop.

Through his years, he had found that he did not often get to keep the things he loved. Time and time again he had been proven right, until he privately grew bitter and shrewd. He built up walls, but they were flimsy things, built without mortar. So time and time again he let them crumble, only to inevitably reconstruct them in some new place.

Instead of try to fight the inevitable, Aesop had learned to simply try and leave his mark. In leaving something permanent, it might be a bit more real to him, and he would not be so easily forgotten. The Bay was no different. He spent his time building those skills which he thought were most useful. He settled quarrels, offered comfort, and gazed at the stars to divine their messages. And sometimes, if he grew restless and bored, he would pace the borders. It was hardly a proper patrol, but he liked to think that it helped, and that eased his worried mind.

Today he picked a careful path from scent mark to scent mark, relishing in his own perceived usefulness. It was an absent job, and he let his mind wander with his feet, only glancing up periodically when he recalled his true purpose.