Stavanger Bay 300 silver pieces or more

The warhound was not phased by the display of surprise on the pale wolf's coat. His eyes roamed the jagged hiking of her fur for only a moment. Amusement creased the brute's muzzle and lips, taking the form of a crooked smirk. It had not been his intention to surprise her, but he considered it a bonus in their short-lived interaction. Ford glanced toward the quiet, younger female. She hadn't said a word, but she had gaped at him for a long moment before closing some of the distance between them and keeping her posture friendly.

The pale one brought up an inquiry with a smile that reminded Ford of Rannveig. For a moment, he was forced to come to terms with the idea that there was a possibility of more like his stormcloud of a brother. The question that was posed hung in the air without answer for a moment. Then, the titan chuckled softly and shook his head. “Velen's descriptions?” he inquired in a knowing tone. “I suppose I'll let you decide for yourself.”

Ford then turned his attention back to the gray youth who had yet to say anything. He brought his mismatched gaze between the two of them with a few waves of his tail before he canted his skull to the right. “What brings you both here?”