Gilded Bay mellow

The more she came here the more she became jealous of these wolves, sitting pretty and fat on their shoreline. Tortuga was miserable in comparison; even the land a few miles out was picked bare from generations of pirate excess and misuse. It fueled what rage she had, to both Alizarin and Rusalka. The boy was from here, certainly, and had grown soft and fat on these shores. No doubt he had come to Tortuga simply on a lark. She'd seen plenty like that. He made a mistake joining her crew.

She tried not to stew in her rage, though the urge became strong to as her mind blanked when she walked. When she finally came to focus she found that she was not alone in this bay. There was a coyote a few lengths away from her, eating a fish.

Coyotes weren't rare in Tortuga. In fact, some became crewmembers, or at least the sire of a few. She had no strong prejudices for or against them — to her, they were just small wolves. She chuffs to alert her presence, knowing that they were rather skittish things.