Seaside Moors You believe in mountains, right? Not everyone does

in her moping, erzulie's youngest daughters had grown, flourishing in the moorland air and the protective clutch of rusalka. neither raleska nor her elder children had returned.
on her heart, an indelible emptiness in the shape of each.
the harlot lifted her mournful head as her pale child began to trundle toward the entrance-way. it was first reaction to stop the girl, but instead she followed, nudging along the downy little flanks until they had both reached the glowing outside world.
erzulie blinked against the sun, stepped out into its light behind arcelia. "quand tu seras grand on ira à la mer," she murmured gently with a wan smile.