Stavanger Bay my heart is broke, but i have some glue

As it was, Ford had turned around just in time to catch the pinched features of his younger brother. His brow furrowed across his mismatched gaze, and his dark lips curled downward into a heavy frown. What more could he have expected from the likes of Rannveig? The slate beach-bum had always had a way of making every situation a foolish one. It was a good strength, his ability to lighten the mood, but he did not wield it well or use it in the most appropriate of times.

The warhound snorted and turned away from the jester so that he could lead them toward fresh water. Once there, he lowered his crown to the earth and drank until he felt his stomach ache from the weight of the water. Then, he waited for Rannveig to follow suite so that they could complete their rounds on the edge of the bay.