Stavanger Bay the thief and the moon

It took her only a short amount of time before she found where he had called to her. The eager wagging of her tail was a good sign, but he searched her features like a prowling jaguar waiting for the opportune moment to strike its prey. Her greeting was soft and brushed against his ears like the fresh touch of a springtime breeze. There was a moment in which he questioned whether or not it was intelligent of him to teach her to fight. That was until he realized that it would have been entirely hypocritical of him not to – they were designed to overcome their hardships and move beyond the weaknesses that had been given to them.

“Good morning, Dalia. Are you ready to start your training?” the warhound inquired of her with as much of a warm tone as he could provide and a slight tilting of his skeletal crown. The sharpness of his gaze did not shift or change as he stared down the length of his muzzle at her. If his eyes were not hollow and void of emotion, they would have been brimming with fire.