Stavanger Bay Oh won't you come with me

umbra, her name murmured from his lips in a return greeting; glacial gaze watching her. she begins vague, but calm and for a moment this earns wintersbane a small cant of his head in curious contemplation only for realization to dawn upon him as she elaborates. of course. she'd spoken that the title 'lady' regardless of where it placed her, did not suit her and he remembers, clearly, agreeing to speak about it later.

today was clearly later.

we could do way with 'lady' and 'queen' and switch them, respectively, to 'saltlord' and 'sealord'. he hadn't really meant for it to be misogynistic but sees, now, how it might be misconstrued as such. making you, as sealord, my equal. despite his reservations of making a stranger such a high position umbra proves herself to him time and again. for whatever it was worth ironclan was theirs for she, truly, has been with him since it's conception.