Stavanger Bay lament of the highborne

the ocean shrieks a frightful song today, lashing notes of icy seawater against the earth as the sky thunders and gripes and the winds violently churn the shores. there is a fierce beauty in the storm, a certain euphoria in the fearful racing of his pulse as he watches the darkened sea thrash. he's drawn toward the shore against his better judgment, craving the thrill of a closer view. a figure catches his eye in the distance, dark against the stormy backdrop and moving with purpose.
he turns to follow without thinking, quickening his own pace until he sees the other's destination — a massive creature of some kind, all blubbery grey and sharp white teeth, surely spit from the sea. he slows, hesitating for a few beats as he watches the creature thrash. his gaze returns to his packmate then, recognizing the other as ford. the realization sends his limbs moving again, carrying him to his leader's side with a chuff and an inquisitive look. there is apprehension in his face, too — but if ford has some purpose here that he can help with, he will.