Stavanger Bay you have what you have, and what you have is for you

like a cat, this child was — erzulie could not help the glint of her teeth in a swift smile. "da loa are whisp'rin, dife ti fi, an' dey say 'dis chile do not like you, erzulie." the dusky harlot pulled away from the bristling feline stretch of the yearling, pacing curiously to one side before regarding her dubious company with a winsome smirk.
"does de child like any'ting den?" came her dry retort — was it her only against which this rough-edged little hobgoblin held some grudge, or her existence in the world itself. perhaps it was all a bit of projection, but the newest swab to smokestep's crew was rather pressed to rein back her immediate annoyance at having been addressed so rudely. yet cover it she did, a genuine grin washing a more affable coolness against the spark of her mint-fire eyes.