Stavanger Bay he finds wings

Something in his tone makes her want to snicker, but instead she dons a poor mask of offense. Crab is — góðgæti. Very good to make strong wolf. And taste very fine, she said, and this, at least, was earnest. He was free, however, to remain skeptical, since she did in fact have something up her proverbial sleeve.

This is good, she chirped, pleased to hear that he'd taken an interest in learning the ways of the sea, even without a proper teacher. It showed a certain amount of humility, in her opinion, despite Wintersbane's claims on the contrary. Much can be learned in this way. But, to be good king very fast, I will teach you my tricks. Hérna —

They had come to the shoreline, now, and Moorhen turned her body parallel to it. First lesson is, waves come in sets of seven. Seven wave is big wave, and one wave is minnsta. Baby wave. Watch at back, where water hills form, gather strength to charge betch, she indicated the far, rolling raters where waves could be spotted in their infancy, even as one wave crashed against her paws. She stepped back several paces, and then drew a line in the sand with her nails.

The next wave brushed one side of this mark back into the sand.

When we hut crab, we will use this. Rocks are dangerous under heavy wave, but can hut during small. We must read the waters, and be fast on the rocks, she explained, turning to lead him parallel to the water now, until they reached the place where the pebbly sand turned to rocky tide pools. Whitewater crashed through every crevice as they drew near — waves heavy enough to break a wolf in half, if they weren't very careful.

Some PP; let me know if I should change anything at all and I am happy to!