Stavanger Bay tell the mirror what you know she's heard before

it took dalia a few seconds to untangle whether or not rannveig was telling the truth. she'd never heard of a jellycomb or this particular brand of seaweed-- and she grew up along the coast-- and she didn't know sharks to be able to swim ashore, but the walrus thing checked out. she hesitated only until he started looking her up and down, which drug a rake through her quizzical expression. 

his words were playful and his expression kind as ever, but dalia couldn't help but pair it with a much nastier memory. she didn't want to-- didn't mean to-- but as rannveig gave her a once over she couldn't help but feel suddenly defensive. her ears pulled back, expression completely blank as she tried to fend off whatever horrified expression lied beneath. she tried not to, it was rannveig, after all. dalia still tried to play along, reminding herself this was not a bad thing. rannveig is not a bad wolf. "you're such a tool, rannveig," she said in the most teasing manner she could manage, her brows knitting together and her tongue sticking out. and then she turned to start walking down the border again, not facing him for a moment so she could gather herself.

chill out, dalia.

over her shoulder, she called in a playful tone, "you're off your rocker if you think a shark! is a threat to the land!"