Coconut Grove quam serena

 
How precious that moment was. Though they had no real common interests or beliefs, there was a reverence that spilled between them – he for the gods that she served, and she for the realm that he commanded so dutifully. Skellige had never witnessed one who was so willing to find themselves enraptured with his domain. If he was not subliminally aware of her devotion, he would have requested that she come with him. He would show her the beauty of the great stretching ocean. If she found herself so enthralled with him in that state, there was more power within the plum whiskey of the witch doctor and the warmth of the golden sands. He shared her pleasure; a desire to find himself closer to the woman had overcome him and he breathed a heavy breath that carried her aroma. It was so foreign to him – so mysterious and rich in its own sense.  
 
"What are you called?" He inquired of her with a cracking baritone. The first words spoken between them, but he felt them necessary. "What great being do you serve?" Another inquiry that he felt was needed. Perhaps he had heard of her great ones in tales of his youth. There had been few travelers to pass the shores of his islands, but he had heard of great spirits beyond his realm of understanding.