Ankyra Sound He took my soul and he washed it in a whiskey river

He had taken his time with Erzulie despite the loss of control he felt with her, and was left feeling invigorated, boisterous and wholly unlike himself. The intoxication of her presence lingered even after they separated, and the man sought out the sea for some wading. The salt tangled through his dark fur as he emerged from a retreating wave and, oddly enough, seemed to have abandoned the limp of his bad leg in favor of an energized stride. He felt good, better than he had in a long time.

Firefly did a swift patrol of the seaside - although it was pointless - and then diverted his boundless energy towards the slope leading towards the dark forest that once frightened him so badly. He didn't think twice about climbing the stonework path towards the forest, and even though he was nearly out of breath from the exertion he made it to the forest's edge in good time. It was here, gulping air, that Firefly noticed a familiar scent. Thinking he'd come across Erzulie again (and eager to spend more time with her) he began to search through the black pines for her.

He would remain oblivious to the scent's true origin until she came in to view, and even then he was too love-drunk to make the connection. Firefly paused as he crossed through a scattering of thin light within the forest, his coat glinting gold, and fixed his attention on the dark crimson coat of Rosalyn.