Stavanger Bay change the narrative.

left to his own devices rannveig would not have ceased fire; it was the will of his brother to pull from their spat, and rannveig did so reluctantly. 

the fire in his gaze gaze did not yield. rannveig spat fur and spit upon the sand, his hackles ablaze as he flanked his brother and sized up their competitor. it was clear if it was up to him, he would not have stopped.

not until the sandwas darkened by firefly’s blood.. or his own..