Stavanger Bay Fiddler's green

The Rat appeared, hulking and massive. A creature so vile that he smelled of death. He spoke to Foxtail in a suffocating tone. The pirate had steadied himself already. He could handle the captain’s ways, the roughness. They were there for another - they were there for the red-furred one. 

Only a fool would dare, Foxtail answered steadily. The jade glimmer of his eyes shifted toward the murky giant of a man. The fire-tailed figure would never consider angering the behemoth. 

He nodded toward the bay with a thoughtful frown and a squint. Could be pirates. Scents are there. What would he make of it?