Stavanger Bay bird brain

In a rare moment of curiosity, Saskia woke to a great urge to explore the territory around her. She wanted to stretch her legs, more or less, and had still not fully adapted to life among the bay wolves. There didn't seem to be many around - but more than likely, they were all still recovering from the passing storm. 

Saskia was most curious about the ocean. She had not lived near a persistent water source such as the sea before. As she trekked along the bay-side, she discovered that traveling across exposed sand was exhausting - it took more work to fight against the piles of sand than to creep along the dry grass. As she was changing direction, she heard a sharp shriek from above - "Aaee! Aaaeee!" - and was promptly dive-bombed by some sort of bird.

The girl ducked and curled her body, wanting to escape but also strike back. The bird swooped down again and again, yet managed to get away from her snaking head as she snapped at its flashing white wings; soon enough an entire flock of gulls was circling above her, and all Saskia could do was run. The sand gave way beneath her toes, and after a few minutes of dedicated marching through the thick reeds and dry stalks, the birds had given up their pursuit.

In the weeks after the storm, Floki had settled back into a quiet routine. The tornado had certainly shaken things up for a short while and had even left its mark on their territory, leaving downed trees and burned shrubbery in its wake. But the beach, somehow, had remained unchanged. Any debris that had fallen on the shore had been washed away by the ocean.

The boy had always had an affinity for the sand and the sea, but he spent even more time there now. He still generally avoided the water -- as Jorunn's tragic fate lingered often in the back of his mind -- but could usually be found searching for shells or digging. On this particular day, he had napped at the base of a dune for an hour or so, and was awoken by the shrieking of seagulls.

He opened his eyes slowly, his ears rotating on his skull as they absorbed the sound. As Floki gained consciousness, he became aware of another wolf racing across the beach, a flock of gulls swarming above her. She ducked into a cluster of cattails, escaping the birds' wrath for now, and Floki waited until they spun away into the sky before taking to his feet and trotting towards her. He moved carefully and quietly through the reeds, hoping not to draw the gulls' attention. "Are you okay?" he finally called out, his voice hushed.

They hadn't done any damage from what Saskia could tell, aside from the pain in her ears, but she was shaken by the experience. Never before had the girl been set upon by a flock of anything. In fact, the canyon where she was raised had been almost empty of life - so this place, these wilds, were indeed an overwhelming change. She was still shaking a little bit when the pup's face suddenly appeared among the reeds; this, of course, made her stumble back with a yip of surprise.

"Oh gods, you th-cared me," the girl droned through clenched teeth, her fur standing on-end as if the gulls had been pulling at every strand; a slight lisp had affected her voice ever since her run-in with a crab, but she hoped the stranger wouldn't notice. 

After a few minutes to catch her breath (and gain some semblance of control over herself and her emotions), Saskia sank to her belly. "I'm.. I'll be alright." Dry grass prodded at her, but she wasn't thinking about the physical discomfort right now. With a turn of her head, she regarded the silhouettes of the birds out upon the sea - "Are the birds here always so crazy?"

Floki hadn't expected to startle the she-wolf, so when she jumped in surprise, he fell back, too. His ears splayed and he ducked his head bashfully as she composed herself then lowered herself to the ground. She assured him that she was fine, although her demeanor remained a bit jittery and she glanced warily out at the gulls circling over the ocean.

"I haven't seen 'em do that before," he admitted with a shrug of his narrow shoulders. He followed her gaze, watching the birds wheel and dive. "They don't usually bother me. Maybe they like you." He gave her a small smile, slowly reclining onto his haunches among the cattails.

Oh, great. If that was how the birds showed their affection, she would make a point to avoid them at all costs. The girl gave a soft huff at the idea, still rather put-off by the chase, but tried to let the event slip from her mind.

She looked to the youngster then, noticing how he sank away from her voice only moments ago and feeling a bit guilty for it. "I'm not used to seeing flocks of birds, or the sea. Its very.. Different, where I lived before." A part of her was thankful for that, yet it also painted her as a highly sheltered individual (which was also true). It took some concentration not to slur her words, thus Saskia spoke slowly, and enunciated with care. "Have you always lived by the sea?" The boy, the pack, she wasn't being specific - but she was curious.

Floki tilted his head as the she-wolf mentioned her former home. He opened his mouth to ask a question -- specifically, where she had come from -- but she beat him to the punch, instead directing a query at him. He nodded his head, glancing out over the ocean as he responded. "Yup. I was born here. My family has lived here for a long time," he replied. In reality, the Lodbrok family had only resided in Stavanger Bay for a little over a year, but that was longer than Floki's lifetime -- and thus, his perception of "a long time" made sense, at least to him.

He blinked, then looked back at Saskia. "Where did you come from?" he asked, somewhat abruptly. Since the pack was so small, Floki's social skills were lacking; there weren't many adults or pups for him to interact with, so the delivery of his inquiry might have left something to be desired. But there was nothing but innocent curiosity in his expression as he looked up at the girl.

A long time? Her ears twitched as she contemplated this. How long was that? How many generations had survived here upon the cliffside by the sea, and how many could survive now that the territory had been cleaved by the storm? Before she could satiate her own curiosity, the child spoke - and Saskia smiled faintly, reminded of her home.

"I came from a small family myself, probably as old as yours," she didn't know how old her grandparents were, but to Saskia they had always been around. They must have been ancient - they'd always been ancient to her - and like Floki, there hadn't been many children her own age growing up. "They live in a big prairie. There are a few trees out there, big ones, but they aren't very common." And there was the canyon, the dusty paths leading throughout the red hills and down in to the heart of her family's land. Oh, how she missed it now.

"Very different from all of this. There is so much here that I've never.." Oh, but she was starting to blather on, and didn't want to bore the boy. "Er, sorry," taking a deep breath of the salty air, she tried to focus on the present, not the past. "This place is different, but it's very... Pretty."

Floki listened attentively as Saskia described her family and former residence. He was mostly interested in her description of the land, however -- he wasn't familiar with the word "prairie," but she provided a descriptive explanation that painted a picture in his mind's eye. He imagined a wide, open space, empty save for a few massive trees here and there. Definitely different from the Bay, but that didn't make it any less beautiful.

"I want to see the prairie sometime," he said with a smile. He hadn't ventured away from home before, but the thought of exploring other territories suddenly appealed to him. "How far away is your prairie?" he asked, liking the feel of the new vocabulary word on his tongue. Maybe one day, when he got a bit bigger, Saskia could take him for a visit.

The packmates talked for a bit longer, until Saskia decided she was ready to exit the reeds and brave the beach once more. Floki led the way, leaping into the air and snapping his teeth at the birds that watched from far above; luckily, they seemed to have lost their interest in pecking at the thrall.