Stavanger Bay dreams fighting machines inside my head like adversaries

The name that tumbled from her lips was one like he had never heard before in his life. Still, it did not phase him to hear it spoken the way that she had. She offered him a shortened version – a nickname by which to call her. Ford offered her a kind sort of smile and lowered his head. The hollow and lifeless searching of his eyes found the cerulean of her gaze for a moment. Amatsu of Stormrift, he thought to himself without feeling a stir of anything in the pit of his gut. Regardless of how he did not feel, the brute knew that she was a valuable member of their growing team. She would have done well for them and he could not have been displeased with that even if he had wanted to.
 
“I am Ford Lasher Mayfair-Cairn, but you may call me Ford,” the titan returned to her in an attempt at humor, though his voice retained much of the seriousness that it had held all along. His own name did not have the same ring as her moniker did. It seemed as though she had done well to carry the weight of it with her and to share it only when she felt it was prudent to do so. The savage warhound used his name when it suited him and only then. In spite of this, he could not have forgotten his name in a million years. The calling that he had received had been beaten into him by the vicious strikes of the ocean water with each day that he lived.