Polybus Scrolls: The wolves at sea.
Helpless upon the open sea, the shallow long-ship bobbed along the waves like a cork. Lightning flashed and rain pounded the thrashing waves like hail, washing salt-water over the flanks and swamping the creatures within, before the ship would rise again in triumph.
Inside the boat, an old wolf prowled about the short deck, bawling orders and cuffing anyfur he found not working to his satisfaction.
"MOVE IT PUPS! Get that sail tied down! Keep that gear from going overboard! And for Gram's sake DON'T FUCKING FALL IN THE DRINK!!!"
The last comment was directed towards a younger wolf, his face a bit more rounded, and wrinkled, indicating ancestry of a more southern bent, towards the recent colonies. Yelping and whining as he was dragged in, the hound could barely conceal his hurt as he fell onto the various weapons the crew had stashed. Gingerly he took a more comfortable seating and pouted.
The old one's face softened a bit. He had known the young one since he was beginning adulthood, and had known his father well. The old wolf sat on a motley collection of armor opposite him. "Look at me, Skapti."
Licking his face, Skapti peeked up at the wolf. Battle-scarred he was, his right eye in tatters, barely moving. A great broad scar tore at his jawline, from some large edged weapon. Clumps of fex and facial fur were missing and his throat bore an extra smile. Half his chest didn't have any fur at all. It was for all of this that the wolf was nick-named "Ugly Volthar".
Gripping him with his one eye, Volthar spoke, more quietly.
"Skapti. Everyfur makes mistakes on their first voyage, some more than others. It doesn't matter what you do now, so long as you don't kill anyone by your stupidity and live to learn from it."
As if psychic, Vodan looked up and squinted at the back of the boat.
"Now get up to the tiller and make sure it doesn't snap!"
Skapti nodded and moved to the back of the boat, tripping over various bits and bobs and slipping more than once on the wet deck.
Shuddering,Volthar turned and muttered to no-fur in particular: "Wet-behind-the-ears-whelp."
The first mate thumped up next to him, a good chunk of his lower right leg missing and replaced with a knot of carved wood.
"Well All-Father? Will we pull through? Or sink and head down to the Fel Kingdom?"
"Hmmph. I am not that wise."
"You've drunk enough on occasion to be".
"Not from the Well of Wisdom." Volthar spat.
He sighed and turned his eye to the cripple.
"We've had worse, though I can't remember when. And that fox isn't helping matters any."
As if to illustrate his point, the object of his ire lurched into the wolf lashing up the sails, almost sending the pair into the waves sweeping the boat. A quick-witted sailor managed to pull them back by their tails. The fox sullenly sat out the tongue-lashing the two gave, the speech punctuated by a sharp smack at his snout.
"More of a pup than anything else, even for a fox". Snorted the cripple.
"Yes, well, Helga said she wanted a new pet to show off."
"Something exotic for the bedroom, she said?"
Volthar threw a lazy punch, the cripple easily ducking.
"Just keep things together, alright Hallyorn?"
Laughing, the cripple nodded and stumped off, hanging onto the railing.
Another wave washed over the ship, but Vodan barely moved from his perch. He spat again, and, noticing another piece of tack starting to flutter, bawled orders for the incompetent who tied it up to try again."
It was dawn the next morning before the storm broke. The crew went about their various duties and personal matters, dumping seawater and fecal matter over the side. It was nearly noon before anything new happened: