Dragoncrest Cliffs I was snared by a sickness, some fever in my lungs

The sea queen turned to him and her single golden eye evaluated Rusalka’s newest recruit. Njord looked away respectfully (just like his momma taught him), but caught the smattering of scars across the woman’s face and body. Despite the alpha’s many old wounds, her fur was a smooth and shiny red chestnut. She looked a bit older than Erzulie - and quite a bit different – and it made him wonder how long she had been at the helm of the pack.

“Aye,” he responded with a boyish grin, “the one and only.” Cerulean gaze looked back towards his leader as his ears orbited curiously like a satellite dish. Though he could be naïve at times, Njord could tell Rosalyn wasn’t quite present. What distressed her? He smiled with genuine warmth. “Erzulie told me about you,” he explained, “its nice to put a face to a name.”

Like a breaking wave, she turned from the border. Njord glanced into the distance – into the tangle – wondering what ominous force captivated her attention. “Of course,” he replied, simply, and trotted up next to her. Better to not ask too many questions, yet.