Stavanger Bay don't ever tame your demons

For @Jagoda ; sorry this post is kind of poop. :c

Arturo's mind was far from an empty place. It'd always been full of schemes but not his room of one had upgraded to a room for two without his consent and he was not happy about it. Most of the sea witches' dealings went unknown to the gangster, and the things he did remember were not much of anything yet aside from stay away from this it'll kill you if you eat it. Arturo scoffed at himself — no at Riptide — as if he had any desire to eat the sea witches' medicines. The prey had returned to the Wilds shortly before Arturo had taken the tumble off of the Ravenshook Cliffs and was left imprisoned in his own mind by a “sea witch”. Of all the things! For once in what felt like forever to Arturo, he'd gotten control and he intended to keep it for as long as he could.

The morning was early, dew still covered the grasses that covered the bracken floored, ash forest. He shrugged beneath a particularly spindly and low hanging ash limb, a soft shiver rippling down his spine as it's twigs tickled down his back before he cleared it. He'd polished off the rabbit he'd caught earlier content that it had filled him because he was no longer starving from the famine. It had been close, admittedly, but he'd survived it. He had survived the torment of being a coywolf as a child and he, Arturo thought with a vicious edge to his mental contemplation, would survive the unwelcome visitor as well. Because he was a Fearghal. Because he was stronger than the sea witch.

A soft shake of his head was given as he continued forth, contented to take the morning to work on memorizing the layout of the Bay, mapping it to his memory. It was as unlike to Quicksilver Hollow as a cat was unlike a dog. The salty brine was sticky and the sea offered a constant lull even when it was a calm. He was not used to such noises, smells, or otherwise atmosphere but he would get used to it, in time.