Stavanger Bay as i climb into the skies

if she had offended him, erzulie found she enjoyed the sport — not out of cruelty, but simply because the wanton found the approach men had toward her craft amusing. in most instances. letting her mint-glow gaze drink in the tighteness of his stance, erzulie at length tilted her own muzzle, holding the pause as the low roar of the sea at smokestep's back rushed betwixt them.
"me, captain." tonguetip bloomed a tiny spot of pink between her teeth; the woman's attention was captured completely by the pale yearling, the loom of his salt-dripping figure powerful above her. and yet erzulie was brazen. she had not become some shy half-lustful thing; committed utterly to such pleasure was she. and yet even a harlot's heart saw the worth of the man before her.
confident as she was in her assumption she was desired by smokestep, equal burned erzulie's desire for him, and she did not guard its glow from her expression as she gazed up at the captain of ironsea.