The New World

[Frisk E. Coyote]

There were a good number of people on the ship who couldn't afford a cabin of their own, or a cabin to share with others, and they all sat on the deck of the ship in large groups, exchanging conversation and anecdotes, laughing or arguing with each other so their voices mingled with the crashing waves and the crying seagulls that flew overhead.

Among these people was a large, gray-furred creature who sat cross-legged on wooden deck, a little ways away from the others, who gave him ample room to himself, fearing that he'd attack them if they sat too close. The creature somewhat resembled a wolf, if wolves walked on two legs and boasted incredibly powerful physiques, or eyes that belonged to raging dragons.

The Son of Fenrir frowned as he tried to make heads and tails out of the world map he held in his huge, clawed hands, turning it upside down, sideways, and back and forth as he tilted his head confusedly. It had only been two months since he left his home in Ulfrheim, and the outside world continued to pelt him with something he had never seen before, one after another. He had purchased a relatively cheap map of the world after he had learned how to use maps, but the sheer size of everything only served to confuse him. He couldn't tell where he was at all.

Shrugging, the wolf folded the map into a tiny square and pushed it down his pants before standing up and stretching, hitching his large rucksack over his shoulder. He'd learn how to use the map soon. In the mean time, he had another chance to get a good look at the sea as the ship sailed to his next destination.