Stavanger Bay goldjoy

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The more she stayed here, the more she was certain her dreams had led her here. To this place, to this bay, a sanctuary close to home, but far enough.

It was here, she thought, that she’d like to stay in the end. Strong sons and noble daughters would be reared on these sands, and those who wanted it could find refuge here, among their number. Her anaa’s vibrant traditions wreathed with the salt and pooling ocean water of her husband’s family. And were better to put such a place than here, where Rhaegal’s ocean and her forests met and intertwined in harmony.

She would see other bays, that was true, but this one was holding her heart.

She saw @Rhaegal off for the day with a kiss, then set out towards the beach, tail bobbing behind her. It was toward a small tide pool that she went, vibrant fox thrown over her shoulders, nose dipped low as she peered into its depths, wishing for oysters if she could find any, a skin between her teeth to haul them back for a saltbrine dinner.

He'd crossed the prairie until he'd met the coast. And he traveled the coast until he met another soul.

And this pale woman was his first soul, and he greeted her with chin aloft and tail wagging. His fiery gaze met hers with a friendliness perhaps too sharp for comfort—

But again. . .he'd been without company for so long.

Aye, mistress, he greeted her, smiling. He padded along the beach, leaving tracks in his wake. Ye ken what this place is? I'm tryin' to find a home, and I havena found much luck along my travels.

The voice made her head lift, her eyes finding the shape with a pair of raised brows. The surprise was plain to see, before it melted into a little smile. She pushed the few oysters she had gathered into her carrying skin, setting it to the side of the pool and raising her head.

Good morning! She spoke, mildly breathless.

This is..well. We aren’t established yet, but this is our home, myself and my husband’s. We haven’t discussed a name quite yet. Vairë flashed a sheepish little smile.

We've not been here for very long! She had an idea for a name, but she hadn’t spoken it yet. At least, not aloud. In her head, perhaps, she had named these beaches.

Ach, that explains why I haven't come across many other scents here, Sawney replied gently. His eyes were drawn to the object she carried; it smelled of fresh shellfish, and he'd never seen anything quite like it before. He'd ask about it, but that could wait.

Instead, Sawney gave a long stretch, spreading his forelegs across the sandy ground and clenching his toes. He felt a vertebrae or two pop.

You'll forgive me, miss, he apologized, looking sheepish. I've been traveling for a while and I'm achin' a wee bit. But it'll bide. He straightened and gave her a nod. Alasdair's my name. Alasdair mac Faolán. But ye can call me Sawney.

Vairë smiled at the man’s formality, waving a paw in the air in a flustered manner.

It is no matter. I will not judge a traveller. She ducked her head in a quick dip of acknowledgment of the traveler’s name, tail waving breezily behind her.

Many greetings to you. I am Vairë Sveijarn. The name sent a thrill through her, still new on her tongue but so wanted.

His muzzle split wide in a smile, accepting the woman's reply—and welcoming it. He appreciated her acceptance and straightened with it, letting out a breath and feeling his spine sag.

Good to meet ye, mistress, Sawney replied, nodding. Will yer husband and ye make this place home, then? I dinna want to intrude.

He didn't think he was. He'd been chased out long before, were that the case.