Stavanger Bay the lighthouse

Interesting…
 
The druid furrowed his brow thoughtfully as she ended her yarn and spoke to him in a common tongue that was not even touched by accent. Knaven found the previous charade to have been unnecessary, but he wondered why she’d felt it was needed. This was enough to keep him there, though for how long he was uncertain. He wasn’t fond of the dishonest, and those who were dishonest for no discernable reason were worse.
 
“Bit o’ this… and a bit o’ that,” he went on before casting a crooked smirk toward her and shrugging a bit. “Mercenary work, spiritual work, I’m a right talent in the water under the right circumstances,” he then went on to explain to the she-wolf. He wasn’t certain they had anything to offer each other just yet, but Knaven knew better than to throw in his chips before he knew his odds.
 
“Primarily just a fisher’s boy, though. Can’t say I’ve got many things you’d need, ma’am.”
 
What would she do with that?