Stavanger Bay Pawprints Towards the Sand

The two had wandered well at each other’s side. Their conversation had been limited to the basics of getting to know one another. Ford had been careful only to share the things he imagined should have been shared with a new member of his pack. He had mentioned his plans for their future only loosely so that he might be able to delve into the nitty gritty of the pack culture at a later time. Still, the conversation that he had with Howl was personal; he did not can his responses and dish them out when he thought it was necessary. No, he treated the dark male like an individual instead of just like one of the many others who called the rift their home.
 
“The black stones had been my father and his witchdoctor’s idea when he had held a claim over the bay,” the sea wraith commented with a nod toward the rocks that marked their borders. It was so easy for sand to be kicked over the marking of urine, but the dark lines that had been created by Doe had been a good addition, and one that Ford fully anticipated he would continue using. “I think it’s easier to keep track of where our borders end and begin, so I thought to keep them.”