Stavanger Bay for storms before were as nothing more

as of late, there had been upheaval within ironsea. erzulie kept her too-active psyche busied with daily forays into the sea, one that left her small body hardened by the lash of waves. good hunting inside the packland, but there was more to be found outside of it.
today was not that day — today the harlot sat poised upon the shoreline, some small delicate whisper of tune rising in her throat. cinnamon forepaws sorted gently through a tangle of kelp. here there was something to be found, for the wide wet sea-plants made excellent bandages. at length, her mintglow gaze tipped toward the sky, but soon she had returned to her task, extricating leaves to lay unfurled upon the sand.