Stavanger Bay shark bait

For anyone! Set a couple of days after the twister. Also, just a note that he is gross and covered in mud and stuff from the storm :D

Now that the pain in his leg had been lessened somewhat, and it had stopped smelling so terribly thanks to that mysterious healer, Atreyu decided it was time to head back to Stavanger Bay. His worry had increased tenfold for the other members — they were such a tiny pack, with one mother and her young children, only two of which were adult-sized. Did they find Jorunn? Had anyone else joined them? What if Ragnar's murderer had returned? The questions spurred him onwards, out of the inland territories and towards the coast, his heart thrumming with excitement with every step.

His pace only quickened when the clouds grew dark and angry, before he had to stop entirely as the wind raged and howled and the rain stung his skin. Atreyu had holed up in a small hollow in Neverwinter forest, only to witness the terrifying mass of clouds that descended from the sky swirl across the horizon, accompanied by crashing thunder and lightning strikes that he thought would never end. The woodland he was in had been relatively untouched, but as the boy hurried even faster now towards the Bay the next day, he could see many other lands were not so lucky.

The ocean was dark and dirty, foam lapping at the shore, stirred up from the still-turbulent waves. Atreyu barely spared a glance at the wreckage and debris that littered the coast, spotting the archway that marked the entrance to his home and sprinting towards it — as fast as a three-legged wolf could sprint, anyway. He hadn't thought the storm to swing towards the Bay, but now it was clear it had come quite close to it. He prayed the pack had made it to safety.

Atreyu let out a short howl for them as he made his way to the familiar beach, the feeling of security that it once provided being replaced with confusion and worry. The sand had been torn apart and mixed with the dirt further up the shore, trees had been flattened and scorched, and bits and pieces of the forest were strewn along the shoreside. The boy hopped around in a few circles, looking out for any signs of blood or fur or bodies, feeling only slightly relieved when he couldn't find any. At least that was one good sign. Still, panic bubbled within his chest, and he started limping along the shoreline, glancing in every direction as he repeatedly yelled, "Thistle! Charon!"