Stavanger Bay i'ma rock my pajamas in the day time i swear, i promise

The brute could feel his heart thrumming as he traipsed the edges of the water. His large paws sunk into the soft, soaking sand, though he found he did not move with the same looming ferocity. The limp in his front limb had taken a great deal from him. Skellige only hoped that it would heal with the rest of his wounds. The young Deirdre had promised that she would tend to him - make him better. She had apologized, but he had been sour and had refused her words with nothing more than a stoic bow of his heavy crown. The days that had followed had not been good to him. The strength of his mind had begun to fade. The leviathan did not recognize the madness that had begun to consume him. 

A ragged form drew his dark gaze. Furrowing his brows, the swarthy titan limped toward the figure of Murgash. The wiry creature had done well enough within the pack. He was unsettling, but his peculiar company was welcome by Skellige, who did not mind the mange or the callous way that the dark brother spoke. "You've made yourself quite comfortable," he drawled in a rumbling baritone as he closed the distance between them. As his twisted limb pulled him closer, the sea wolf lifted his skull upward and frowned.