Stavanger Bay he finds wings

The quirk of the Saltking's lips evoked a stronger, answering grin from Moorhen. He was not too proud, then, and she hoped she could insinuate herself into his council in order to bend his ear — all for the safety of the pack, of course.

This was a passive thought; more important was the "lesson" she had planned. We will learn how to find best crab, she said succinctly, although the actual content of her lesson was more along the lines of, "learn what it feels like when a crab pinches your nose". She had played this trick on many unsuspecting pups, and she hoped dearly it would work on an older, wiser wolf.

She turned, sweeping, to lead the way toward the craggy coast, a certain bounce in her step the only thing that betrayed her excitement. Otherwise, her bearing was that of a military general, her tail swaying almost in line with her spine and her chin held above the line of her shoulders. Not the most respectful way to walk with her new king, but she was accustomed to carrying herself with the rank afforded to her, and Coelacanth had never asked her to submit.

She turned a mischievous glance on her pupil, but her question was entirely serious. You can swim? It was folly to take a wolf out on the rocks without that skill; they might very well have an uneventful trip, but there was always the very real chance of tragedy.

Later, I ken teach to see wave, predict tide. This is important skill for living by the ocean.