Stavanger Bay as i climb into the skies

he emerged from the waters; the sea streamed from his flanks, his withers, his muzzle. a veritable sea serpent, pale in the fading light, hackles abristle in a proud forest of thin snowy daggers across his shoulders. the pirate closed the distance between them with unhurried stalking steps, lionish in his approach.
the harlot lifted her chin, eyes slowly tracing the last rivulets of seawater in his pale chinfur, before her two-toned gaze met the hunger of his inquiring gaze. "erzulie, captain," she murmured in tones honeyed only for his ear. "an you nevah gave me yo' own." 
here the woman let a smile curve her lips over the remainder of the words she wished to say; the newest ironsea wolf could perhaps be seen as challenging her king with the brazen burn of her stare into the sunlight haloing his proud flaxen head. how would he take it? fè atansyon, erzulie urged of herself.