Stavanger Bay her lips, just like a gun

lmk if you want me to delete!

the waves and her daily exercises had transformed erzulie into a salt-laced and hard-bodied thing beneath the honeycream curvatures of her pelt. while she truly was not a vain creature, the quartermaster was aware of her looks against the scarring and feral demeanour ironsea had wrought in her; she was unsure whether or not she wished such a stark juxtaposition.
no matter; a call on the wind lengthened the gait of her slim legs until she found a woman layered with colours that sparked familiarity in the recesses of the harlot's mind. it was in silence that she drew closer, mint-glow gaze discovering the feminine features of the stranger with a gentle expectation that the other speak.