Seaside Moors Is someone else in me?

sea holly. erzulie looked at the trailing thing again, committed its scent and look to memory. "you have de knack for it," she remarked, considering what the girl had offered rusalka upon joining. "dere was more where i found it." an arch of her brow, a silent invitation for grímnismál to accompany her toward the beach.
the yearling yet fit well into the stoic aloofness of rusalka, each serving their own tasks until called together for the greater good. if one wished to exist upon the fringes of the coastal society, they would not be forced to do more — until rusalka called upon their might. but long had those days been gone, and less chance of it now with their truce among the firebirds. "have you located a den yet?"