Stavanger Bay Troverai quella mia timidezza

@Valentine :D

Before he knew it the grass under his feet had turned into sand. The land here faced leeward and was buffed smooth with sandpaper wind. It stung his face and coarsened his fur. The sky was nearly a true blue now - save for the fiery fringes of the horizon, like the yellowed edges of old paper - and the shadows glowed with it. 

He let the tide lap at his feet as he sat hunched, the fur of his ruff turned up like a collar against the gale.

@Kjalarr being vague about markings. lmk if u want me to change anything!

The sand was cool to the touch. Chilled by the previous night. Perhaps as the day went on it’d warm up a bit. But the sun was so far from them now, he had his doubts.
For now he’d enjoy the breeze winter brings. The salty sea air and all the different scents that came with it. He swore the smell of wolf was on the wind, though it was so subtle from where the two sat. Valentine didn’t give it much care, lest a group come with fangs unsheathed.
I grew up by the sea, he spoke with a fluttery exhale.

He cracked a wry grin, a rare lapsing of his usual vague frown.

You grew up on fish? So that's why you're so skinny.

It was true; il viaggatore was whittled and lean, the product of erosion or a methodical carving knife. There was a sharpness to his arrowhead features. Pier swore that he could've had some coyote in his blood.

My family name, Montanari, means from the mountains. It felt almost sacrilegous to admit his last name so freely, even though he knew that it held little to no meaning here. His family was powerful but did not have too much presence outside of their natal forest. They were secretive and isolated - a hermit kingdom.

But I grew up in the woods. He turned back, eyes squinted against the wind.

Valentine’s mouth fell agape with faux shock. Had he the ability to clutch at his chest he would have.
And seal, mate! It’s the blubber that kept me from blowing away like a leaf to the wind.
He fell to his back, laughing softly to himself on the way down. One ear was kept above the damp sand to listen to the glimpses of the man’s past.
And how was that like?

Like a leaf to the wind, he echoed through a toothy smile.

Oh, it was all nonsense, he assured him with a dismissive flick of his ear. Politics, hurt feelings, petty fights over territory.

Not that he didn't have his own pound of flesh to give. Not that his hands were clean of blood. But it was so easy to talk about it as if he had never truly been there. He had wrought a lot of pain, but guilt evaded him.

It was full of wolves, each wanting to have their own revolutions. He cast a downwards glance to the man, who lay sprawled out on the sand, lit by a diffused and pale sun. You're not missing out on anything.

He thought of Isotta, who he had left behind without so much as a tear. If he were to come back, she would never forgive him, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to care.

Nonsense, he says. One grand, sweeping word to describe it, followed by the little details that hid beneath the veil.
The seasman nodded with a thoughtful hum. That doesn’t sound all too pleasant. It’s no wonder why he’d left. He must’ve slipped away as soon as he was able. Ah, but that wasn’t the case was it? He was forced to leave, that’s what he’d told. Valentine couldn’t help but wonder why. It’s a question he’d keep to himself for now.
It doesn’t sound all too different from where I’d come from. There’s always some petty squabble or fights over this that or the other. He waved a paw as he spoke. But, ah, no revolutions or anything of the sort. At the end of the day we have eachothers backs, despite being at eachothers throats.

Slowly but surely the small talk encroached onto something of substance. He felt as if he was approaching thin ice despite there not being any sign of antagonism. Even so, he stepped gingerly through his next words.

Sounds just like a big family. He said, although he found it difficult to imagine a group of wolves with that much integrity. So where did you fit in? He supposed there was a second question just beneath it - namely, where are they now? - but something kept him from laying it bare.

With a grunt, he lowered himself belly-down with his elbows to the ground, and flattened his ears as the wind whistled through them.

not my wall of text lolol...

Well, I didn’t fit in anywhere as a pup. There was no room to fit in the first place. He laughed with a gentle shrug, then glanced to the sky. There were so many pups running about. Too many I’d say. Everyone was too busy with they’re own kids, they didn’t have the time to pay attention to me. Except my parents of course. He added with a dip of his head; Also misfits. It didn’t help me win any popularity contests.
I swear no one knew I even existed until my parents deserted. They tried to keep the four of us together but, ah, things didn’t go as planned. My mothers got away but me and my father didn’t make it. And he wondered, not for the first time, where his mother’s could be now. If they were even still alive. The thought was fleeting, as it always was.
Next thing I knew my name was on everyone’s lips. They couldn’t go one second without arguing about whether or not to throw me into the ocean or abandon me in who knows where. Him, only a boy at the time! It sounds a bit absurd recounting it now. Yet he spoke of it so casually.
Thankfully my father quelled the arguments. It was decided that I earn my stay with hard labor. Him too. But while he stayed at the bottom of the ranks I rose higher and higher. I don’t know how that happened. Valentine turned with a smirk on his face. Perhaps it was my charm or my devilishly good looks. Ah, but I suppose I do my job well. 
A slight slip of the tongue at the end. He dismissed it with a chuckle.
Look at me, rambling about my life. I want to know more of yours. You are quite a mystery, mate. I don’t even know your name!

LOL it's ok, I love him and his backstory!

Frankly, he was enchanted. He had always had a vague and romantic image of the ocean in his head - something kitsch and idyllic, at times roughshod and adventurous - but the lives of the coastal wolves seemed as hectic as the ones inland. All stop-motion fussing over this and that.

The traveler impressed him; he had always envied self-made men. Perhaps envy wasn't the right word, but it was close.

Pier blinked as the conversation pivoted to him.

My name, he pursed his lips. My name is Pier. What's yours? Or shall I keep calling you the traveler?

For a few moments he stewed in silence as he planned his sentences. In the end the tone of his voice was self-effacing and somewhat confessional.

To be honest, my father had a lot of power. I grew up kind of like a prince. But after childhood, he fell ill. So for him and my family I did nothing but grunt work for years... and there were many unpleasant things.

Actually, I had to leave because of a revolution. A coup, if you like. If I returned now, they would have my head. To them I represent all the sins of what came before.

He took a measured breath, and smiled mirthlessly. So it's true, you're talking to a criminal now.

Pier. He repeats the name in his head several times over before it sticks to his memory. For how long it would stay, he didn’t know. He never knew.
And what name would he give Pier? There’s a whole list. He thoughtfully picked through it, until;
Skua. Yes, that’s the one. Rolls off the tongue. Easy not to mix up with his many other names.
And after a pause, the other man goes on to talk of his own childhood. It started as something he may hear from a tale, with princes and power and all. Then it turned to something he could better relate to. Hard work and revolution. Well, perhaps a coup was a bit on he extreme side, but the chaos that was guaranteed to come with it was familiar. So too was the red bullseye that had been etched into Pier’s back.
You would not be the first criminal I’ve met. He rolled to his paws and stood. But a prince, er, prince-like man? I can’t say I’ve come across many. Certainly not a wanted one!
Valentine raised his brow. Do you think they’ll come after you?

He was called Skua and he thought it was peculiar - barely two syllables, sounding more like an exclamation that had become a name by happenstance.

A wanted prince, he mused. You make it sound a lot more romantic. His life to him had been nothing more than a mulch of hour bleeding into hour punctuated by the occasional flare of terror.

They'd be foolish to do that. Secretly he hoped that he would wake up to rough hands urging him awake, his feet skittering across the floor as someone dragged him back to that forest. Such an event would be a humiliation but it would also cement his importance, being someone dangerous enough to pin to a cork board, a sepia-toned mugshot glowering beneath the words WANTED.

He would never disclose this fantasy to anyone.

On your way out? He squinted up; Skua's face was dark and backlit, handsome even from below. It's funny - it seems like I'll never see you again.

Valentine was a bard at heart, or so says anyone patient enough to lend an ear. Always weaving threads of his colorful imagination into stories. He takes it as a compliment.
To his question Pier answers with a no. At least something of the sort. They’d be foolish, he says, to come after him. But there were many fools in this world. Even more so driven blindly by reward. How valuable was this prince’s head?
Valentine hummed. Why? Were you hoping to see me again? He laughed beneath his breath. We don’t have to part so soon, you know. You could come with me. Get a glimpse into a traveler’s life. He added with a grin. It is very exciting.

Even without hindsight he knew that this was one of the crossroads in your life that historians liked to call a watershed moment - the kind of category bestowed onto assassinations, onto meetings that happen as flukes, onto groundbreaking scientific discoveries.

He could step back as the possibilities of his ghost lives spun and spiraled off into the dark like windshear on an airplane wing. Should he refuse? Accept? Not say anything at all?

Yes, he said. That sounds wonderful.

He stood up, faint traces of disbelief lingering on his face. Pier had not yet figured out whether Skua was joking or not and so he ventured forwards with a vague combination of hesitation and humor.

Shockingly, Valentine awaits his response with baited breath. Anytime he’d made an attempt to rope someone into his life he’d always been so sure of the answer before it came. In that moment he wasn’t sure how this could go. Would Pier choose to stick to his plans of settling down with a family to surround him? Or will he dive headfirst into Valentine’s escapades?
He chose the latter. Little does he know what he just signed himself up for. The finer print could be discussed in due time.
Happy to have you mate! His smile grew wider. Shall we find a place to camp then? We’d best gather our energy for the road ahead.

Fading here?

With the queasy feeling that he had just signed a contract without knowing what it even stipulated, he smiled weakly and nodded. The world had shifted - he was no longer a lone wolf. Now it would be easier to get to the other side of winter, he told himself. But this was a variable he had never considered until moments before.

Andiamo, he said, letting Skua take the lead. Behind them, the tide continued to rise.