Wheeling Gull Isle OTHELLO, I WILL AVENGE YOU

"well, we are met," erzsébet rejoined. her umber eyes flickered over the pelt of the woman, her blocky form, her hard eyes. she was hardly distinguishable from the rabble of men who followed the captain, and in her scrutiny the countess did not see the interest in the other woman's eyes. her tailtip flicked, catlike; she was annoyed at the interruption, her desire half-risen and now stagnating.

"i have no interest in such," the woman growled in the heavy accent of the grotto, eyes flashing with a warning now: depart or be bitten. she had bandied enough words with this peasant.