Shimmering Sands heat death

what drove erzulie out into the grove she did not know.
perhaps she looked for the cat.
perhaps she looked for reyes. for nieve. for marisol.
all gone off into the expanse. the harlot melted away like oil spreading across the roots of seaflowers, and was swallowed by the shard-tooth leaves of the coconut trees.
out she paced to the vast expanse of salt desert, where it stretched across until her eyes saw no more. exposed to the sun, the flatland had cracked, and beneath the heaviness of the daytime stare, her own cinnamon-milk fur began to heat. but still erzulie pressed forward, until a tint to the wind dragged her mismatched gaze down.
blood.
smeared in the prints, a trail along which the healer hurried, mindful of her own lagging energy as finally she came upon the weaving figure staggering through the sands. erzulie chuffed, even as she drew closer, moving sidelong to the sunbeat wolf. a woman. "come wid me. you bleed. you will soon be burnt to death."