Gilded Bay you pinned me with your black sphere eyes

Not at all.

The call of a stranger broke him from this thoughts. Almost immediately, Ford drew his attention upward and latched his mismatched gaze on the shape of a girl. Her face shared a scattering of spots – like freckles – and her eyes glistened with the color of seafoam. There was hesitance in her posture, but he would not take advantage of that. She had approached him, after all; she must have needed something.

Leaving his prints in the sand, the inkhound closed some of the space between them with a few lengthy steps. Ford held himself at a calculated distance from her before he drew his skull upward and regarded the woman with a single quirked brow and a glistening jet black eye. “How may I help you?” the hound inquired in a tone so husky and deep that it seemed to have come from the darkest depths of the sea itself. There was a smokiness to him that didn't come from the ink in his coat. It was deeper – a smoke in the depths of his soul.

Ford lacked an air of danger, though. She was free to approach him at her own will. The titan stood far enough away that she should have known he meant no harm to her. After all, he was near to the water. There was no need for him to feel out of order in such a close proximity. It was where he belonged, after all.