Seaside Moors for by my side you put on

erzulie felt herself unlocked by the woman's eyes, the hint of knowingness in them; she felt her wrappings slid gently from bare bronze shoulders. an unguarded expression stole over her watchful features; she tilted her muzzle and saw how the sunlight bore tundra's gaze from shadowed mahogany to half-dark honey, how her small figure did not hint at weakness.
who was this, the jezebel wondered to herself, aware of tundra's trained bearing as they both settled into the presence of the other. it was bittersweet poetry that flowed from the pale woman's jaws, and by its end erzulie could not hide the pleased arch of her brow, nor the rueful glance of her own toward the nearby expanse of salt.
"i worship de sea for her power. for her destruction," erzulie declared, a feral grin skimming her dark lips. "for her ability to transform de world. for her loyalty dat is only to herself, or those she be deemin' wort'y." a pause, a sated breath. "she is dat i aspire to be."