Stavanger Bay nothing lasts forever, not even the best machines

He had decided to explore the territory next to the charred area. Hephaestus knew there had to be somewhere better for them to conduct business. He could not risk the safety of Nausicaä in the dangerous forest that harboured trees that seemed ready to go at a moment's notice. Nor did he wish to conduct the business of Thalassa and Pontus in such a shabby place. Although he supposed that wasn't entirely his call.

A strong huff escaped him as he found the shore. The darkness of night cloaked everything out in the open waters. No shark fins, no seals, no leaping fish. He was truly alone for now. Although he relished in the action of being by himself he was not to remain so forever.

Hephaestus would be pulled back to Nausicaä soon. They were his calling.

the pleasure of coconutgate twenty-eighteen had not yet abated in velen — he found something new to snicker about each day. but if there was something he did not find funny, it was dark lurkers on their shoreline. of course, it was not yet theirs, but velen wasn't about to be wooed by pesky logic. 
and yet if the next iteration of the mayfair-cairn legacy was to thrive, they were in need of joiners. numbers, ford had said — numbers enough to claim both the shoreline and the forest where their grandfather lay in eternal sleep. velen tempered his approach, stepping out into what starlight there was and offering a low chuff. he did not approach, however — the yearling's stance was open but careful, his mouth silent for the time being.

There was a sound that pulled his large ears up and his carved figure slowly turned to face them. The stranger was painted with all the colors of a rich fall forest. Hephaestus was not pleased with such a burning presence. His sharp face tilted downwards ever so slightly, silver eyes staring at the stranger. Did they need something from him? There was no promise the wolfdog would hold even a silver of interest in helping anyone who was not his Conduit.

He stood silent, unwavering in his leveled position. It was clear by both the look in his eyes and the posture of his body that he was not going to waste breath on words. That would be left up to the autumn toned male who had interrupted his thinking time.

excuse me, who the fuck are you? velen mirrored back, aghast that his presence should be so rejected. and with silence, no less. perhaps the mayfair-cairn had a small problem with pride, but this loser with his silent sass had given velen the nuclear option. after all, it wasn't the stranger's scent wreathing the beach, nor did he suspect the newcomer had a pair of brothers that would beat him half senseless given the chance.
they probably wouldn't, but velen went right on with his haughty fantasies.
relaxing his stance into a conceited gesture of ownership, velen strode toward the stranger. "my bad. thought you were someone else." pausing, he swelled his chest in an exaggerated show of breathing the night air, eyes fluttering closed with true pleasure despite his trollish nature.

hover for translations

All the male recieved at first was a raised brow. Hephaestus had never been impressed with those not of Amaranthine and this only further pushed his feelings in that directions. While his Conduit might have not understood the common tongue well, Hephaestus did indeed. The words seemed like a lazy excuse for being blind, dumb or having a broken nose.

Συνεχίστε να μετακινείτε. He spoke with an even tone in his choice language. Would this stranger know what his words meant? He wanted to doubt it mentioning the male had picked to speak with such an ugly language to start off with.

Granted Hephaestus would not deny that he had never liked the language of commoners.

the man let off a ramble of syllables velen recognized, but he tipped the dark fellow one of ford's winningly impassive looks. it was an expression he had practiced in clearwater shallows,  and now he extended it to the stranger, adding to its end a slow and unimpressed blink.
"αυτές είναι οι άμμοι μου." called your fuckin' bluff, he thought smugly, if only to himself. deirdre had known the tongue from her time with the nereides, after all; of course she would have shared it with her children. velen swept his ears forward toward the sound of nightwaves lapping onto the cairn-intended beach. whatever this idiot wanted with his refusal to speak english, the boy no longer cared. he turned to ice upon the shoreline, and turned all his attention from the unknown to what he did understand: the ocean.