Stavanger Bay change the narrative.

a call, sharp and belonging to his brother, roused rannveig from his den nearby. he arose and spit from the mouth of the den like a startled jay, fur flared and eyes searching for velen's form, which just now was edging past the sand dunes.

there on the wind the scent of blood polluted the purity of the cove's saline scent -- with it, the scent of an interloper was supplanted on the wind. rannveig hauled ass after his brother, bespotting the form of a scarred man with fresh wounds on his side.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD," rannveig charged from the front, coming towards the man like a furious asteroid come to make its mark on the earth. rannveig did not wait for cordialities or an explanation -- it was written clearly on the sand, and any man to lay his teeth in his brother was an enemy to destroy.