Stavanger Bay barnacle bill

Godot had been spending slightly more time down on the beach looking for odds and ends that might prove useful later on.  Her latest find was a large beach clam shell that had been in the low tide area, its wedge shape sticking up from the sand like a flag.  It was unfortunate that it didn't come with a tasty treat inside as it was only half of the creature's hideaway, but its otherwise unchipped, uncracked surface deemed it worthy to get added to her piles of other things that she'd hidden across the territory like a chipmunk.

After placing the shell out of the reach of the waves, she'd been poking around to see if anything else was about to be tossed up to shore but so far had come up with nothing. It was only when she was about to head farther away that she was interrupted, hearing Smokestep's call.  Huh. Better head that way, then.  Godot retrieved her shell and headed off.

She'd been much closer to where he'd been calling from than she thought, as her arrival on the scene was preceded only by. Uh.  What was her name again?  Oh well.  Figure it out later.  Godot paced at a distance for a moment, pondering where to sit before finally picking a spot that obviously was far superior than any other patch of earth -- at least to her.  Ghhllo, she said with a polite dip of her head, apparently ignoring the fact there was no way in hell she was going to be understood with the shell in her mouth.  Didn't seem like she was eager to put it down either.