Gilded Bay Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn

"Weigh-hay and up she rises! Weigh-hay and up she rises! Weigh-hay and up she rises! Early in the morning!" The loud waves and wild winds were no match for her loud and rambunctious songs of the morning. Perhaps if one paid attention well enough, they could hear her loud tunes from quite a bit away. Norsamu held back nothing as she loudly sung ol' tunes of sea shanties. They didn't feel the same without a chorus to follow along, however she felt the urge to sing while doing her business in the area. It was one of the songs she found slightly decent without another, and continued to repeat  as her black and white paws were stained with grains.

"What will we do with a drunken sailor! What will we do with a drunken sailor! What will we do with a drunken sailor! Early in the morning?" The tides were currently not near the Gilded Bay, letting the white maned wolf freely roam it's rocky and sandy shores. Her body rocked toward a smooth boulder that let her get on at an odd angle. Norsamu was weighing downward to the crevices of these various of rocks, her paws daggering into it in a fast and forceful pace. Behind her sand sometimes wildly flied about, caring little if she hit something or someone. Her focus as entirely into these patches.

"Put 'em in the scuppers with a hose pipe on him! Put 'em in the scuppers with a hose pipe on him! Put 'em in the scuppers with a hose pipe on him! Early in the morning!" She recently discovered the area held quite a few beauties, different rocks that gained Norsamu's interest, as well as the occasional intact seashell. Occasionally her maw would dip downward to nab onto one, but seeing as it had imperfections of a broken shell, she threw it away.

"Put him in the brig until he's sober! Put him in the brig until he's sober! Put him in the brig until he's sober! Early in the morning!" So far she racked up quite a collection on one of the flatter rocks; it held various of shells and rocks that were absolutely stunning to the eye. None of them held a crack or a broken piece, for she couldn't stand seeing her beauties have those imperfections in the treasure trove. Norsamu kept switching between different crevices, as she eagerly pawed at them to find the treasures she so adores. The only time she'd take a break was when the lass actually found one, and proceeded to put it in the hoarding pile!

Song and dance is all fine, all dandy,

But what is this racket from afar?

The snake slides across the beach, only the slightest dullness to his eyes betraying the irritation he feels.

A girl of grays and whites of all different hues is bellowing her day away. There is a small but growing collection of seashells near her.

This is not the gentle crooning of the wind, the soft murmurs of a siren--

This is something from the belly, the chest, the heart. And a heartless man cannot abide this music.

He comes as close as she will allow, the smirk on his face clashing with the cold eyes he lays upon her.

"Why are you here?"

Norsamu was about to repeat the whole sea chant over again as she happily was digging for beauties. Though her head popped up, as she curiously looked toward the visitor with her orange gaze, "my guy," she started before answering his question, "anyone tell ya, ya look fucking creepy like that?" The cold eyes, yet a smirk along with it. What an odd combination that gave her an eerie feeling from the random wolf. She didn't care much how close he came, as she held her head high in pride. There was no worry- because she'll just beat him up if he does something stupid.

"Ah, i'm diggin for em' treasures. Ya see?" Her head motioned toward the different shells she collected for the past... Hours? Honestly the white maned wolf had no idea how long she has been doing this and singing her sea shanties. The only time she seemed to stop was when this creepy fellow appeared.

Creepy. His lips stretch wider, tighter, revealing rows of gleaming ivory.

But he says nothing, for now. No, she hasn't answered his question yet. He waits until she has finally done so, and then--

"Why do you look for treasure?"

It isn't treasure. It is superfluous.

Treasure is intrinsic. Treasure is the meat on the bone.

Not pretty little shells.

What does she want?

What can she give?

This wolf was giving her the absolute creeps. Though she did not show hostility, rather once he asked another question she showed a large grin. Her pearly whites shinning brightly as the female was glad to share about the beauties of treasure, "my creepy guy with the smile," Norsamu jokingly called him, "ain't life fun? Fun findin' new things, aye?"

"Diggin' up em treasures and discovering rumors t'was makes life exciting, ah. Discoveries never get old." It really never got old, because everytime it seemed something was different. Even if the rumor or item was similar, there was always something about it that was different from the rest. Everything had their unique differences, and she was going to go after it all! Norsamu was happy to share about her love.

"Ah, yes," he whispers, the sunlight gleaming off his eyes. "Fun."

He stretches, long and lean, twisting his body so that the lines blend almost perfectly with the sand. He sits like a sphinx, looking at her.

"Let me tell you a story--

There was a girl, beautiful and fair
There was a girl, beautiful and fair
Who thought the world was measured in gold

She built up a castle, walls and a roof
Surrounded herself with treasures of gold.

Stacked higher and higher, her treasures did grow
'Til she was buried in a mountain of gold.

Her friends were despondent, her family bereft
For they'd lost the girl in love with her gold."

He dips his chin gently at the hoard, ears angling forward to catch her response.

"Now tell me, dear girl," he whispers, "what will you do,

"When you gather more than you can carry

"And are left with nothing?"

"My guy, you're fucking weird." Norsamu straight out admitted while cackling at his odd way of speaking. He was creepy, and weird, and it was a bit amusing how he acted. He sure was an interesting fellow, and she had no idea why he wanted to interact with her. 'Ya know...' He somewhat reminded her of some sort of noble, on the sophisticated he spoke. Though that smile, and the eyes, and really his overall looks made her think he was like a snake. 'A noble snake,' the lass chuckled to her own thoughts.

"Treasures ain't forever. Does it look like I can carry em'?" Norsamu didn't have anything to carry them with, and she didn't have a 'home' more of simple travelling. There was no storage. Thus, the rogue just laughed at his question and answered it nonchalantly, "discover them is the excitment, ain't there no more once they here. Ya find the beauty, then ya leave the beauty for another."

Weird. Creepy. He has heard it all. Does she think it will affect him?

They are just words.

And you cannot harm a wordsmith with words.

"Is that not a waste of time?" Imtiaz questions, tilting his head slowly to one side. An inquisitive songbird, now.

A songbird with snake eyes.

"Why not pursue other things--things that are forever? You will never see these shells again, save in your mind's eye."

The nearest shell is inches from his paw, a tiny, brittle, translucent thing. He steps on it--two quick stomps.

His pad trickles blood onto the sand where it has cut him.

The shell lies in pieces; broken, pathetic pale shards.

"See? That is your idea of treasure. Fragile. Transient."

The smile is gone as he stares at her.

"Why not search for true meaning, instead?"

Dis' fucker ignoring her name-calling. Alright- she won't let it bother her. He seemed strange so maybe that was just part of whatever quirk was in his personality. He kept asking these strange questions, she could've sworn the Sea God's were given her some kind of prophecy. Weren't his fancy words like them in the stories? Well, she don't believe in a sea God, so maybe he was just a weirdo. A weirdo giving her what sounded like a test, "what's you're aim my guy? Ya soundin' like everythin' gotta be a such a serious choice."

"N' why? Forever thing's get borin' after a while. Doesn't feel like a waste chasin' ya feelings of excitment." She didn't care if it was long-term, because the feeling of adrenaline never seemed to be with the long-term item or moment. She went exploring to feel that excitment, to feel that pleasure of finding something- and she wasn't doing it to keep an item. She wanted the feeling.

"I don' care about that meanin' of life shit, why should I? Livin' in the moment is what makes life sweet." Norsamu chortled loudly at the very thought. What's the point of thinking so seriously? That's not fun to have to sit down and concentrate on the question, why not just go look for it rather then contemplate it? Wait- why was this man making her think such topics. Her brain isn't used to it.

There is no bringing her around. She is a rock in the river, parting the current.

He drags his paw along the sand, leaving a small trail of blood in its wake. The grains in the open wound sting--

"Blood is fleeting. I could bleed and bleed and bleed until I am empty,

And yet my soul will live on."

Imtiaz peers at the woman, eyes narrowed to slits from pain almost pleasurable in its intensity.

"One day your body will die. There will be no moments left for you."

The serpent smiles once more, blinking slowly, staring out into the waves.

Up. Down. Up. Down. And so it went, on and on. Endlessly.

The ocean was endless, but wolves were not. And this girl did not know, and would likely never know.

"Enjoy your treasures."

He bends and takes a crimson-coated shard between his teeth, plucking it from the sand.

And trots away, disappearing into the mirage of a muggy coastal morning.

"Yo bro, ya ok? Seem to be goin' mad." Now he was just freaking her out a bit. She smiled and laughed with the question, but raised her brow in curiosity while staring at this mysterious- no, rather downright creepy fellow. Who seemed to be bleeding, which was always a plus to this already odd situation that she was in. Honestly if one listened to his words, they were nice sounding, and gave one a moment to think... They were like poetry coming out of the wolf, but Norsamu wasn't no poet, nor' a 'dear girl'. She was a damn adventurer who didn't understand his words, which sounded like madman sea talk.

She was so complexed on this weird interaction, she didn't even notice he took a merfolk tear with him while walking away... She been searching for that for days!