Seaside Moors and when the MC rhyme and the DJ spin

brave valravn toddled back with her, but reached the limit of his tolerance when it came back to the gentle pools. she frowned somewhat, then her brow smoothed. the crab had come from the water, had it not? "pauvre petit poisson," she sighed, smoothing his ear with a lick.
if valravn would not come to the little home where his assailant lived, erzulie must bring it. 
"wait here," she bid the child, striding over and gathering a mouthful of seawater. the heavy brine was familiar; any seawolf had swallowed their share of it. lowering her muzzle, erzulie sought to sluice it gently across the crab, letting the clear liquid roll from the shelled back until, presumably, the nippy crustacean was enticed to let go. she would repeat if necessary.
in the meantime, the harlot, leant so close, wondered at the changing hue of her adopted son's eyes. she did not wish to think of who had granted him the coloration; dacio's name echoed against her will from the cavern of her skull.