Coconut Grove the black earth

ironsea. the memory of that brute destroying the cove and scattering its inhabitants remained a ridge of scar tissue in memory. she pursed her lips, nodding, falling to seek the cat's track. rosencrantz bid them goodbye; the archangel would return to the moors and keep an eye upon the children whilst the rusalkan mothers hunted.
"are you happy, rosalyn?" she asked finally, suddenly. there was no sign of the cat now; it had faded but for a brush of fur and the hanging, stale-edged scent. she turned her mismatched stare upon her wife and was silent.