Stavanger Bay Vivisection

She was only a child. That much was clear to Raimo, anyway. So full of life and lacking in troubles — just like his younger siblings, his cousins, or anyone new to the world. A touch of envy sprang up within himself but he stamped it down easily, snuffed out the embers of it; better to be wise and skilled than innocent, he thought next.

Stories? He queried, ears shifting on his head. Already the stranger had moved on with the conversation and Raimo huffed, unsure of what to say. I suppose I am adventuring too, he concedes.

I gather stories. Which he usually did not like to admit, as it was a private interest of his, but seeing as this stranger was so different from what Raimo knew he thought, surely, she had some kind of story to share herself.