Whitefish River I've never been afraid of any deviation.

she had only been inland once, where she had met the darkfurred boy. since then, erzulie had kept to ironsea's borders, ever diligent in her patrolling. the bay must be infused with new blood, and whom better to persuade a wolf to one's cause than a harlot?
amused, the chai-tea woman made her way before morninglight along the ridges nearmost the ocean, heading further and further away from it until she was engulfed by rolling terrain. making note of landmarks by which she might find a route home, erzulie nevertheless veered toward water with a powerful thirst on her tongue.
whom she found there was a man of her own, albeit one who had not been seen about ironsea for a short while. placidly she approached, settling at the river's edge to dip in her small forepaws and drink, watching her packmate parade in the freshwater tendrils.