Dragoncrest Cliffs Wisenheimer

Well, what qualms could Merlin bear against being groomed, if he had had no experience in having a female for a leader? With men it was clear - they either let you fend for yourself or you could tell them to eff off, if they pushed on your privacy too much. With Erzulie, who had the same effect on him as Valmua had had on Njord? Using foul words, even being the slightest bit rude seemed wrong and utterly repulsive. Quite the contrary - he sorely wished that his tongue wasn't that tied, that he could utter something intelligent enough to make a good impression. So far - no such luck. He thought about his pal, who had been beaten up by a jerk, and his already low self esteem dropped few stories lower at the realization - that he was bruised and battered by his own cowardice. 

"T-t-thank y-y-y-ou," he told her through chattering teeth, when he felt that Erzulie had wasted enough time on his unworthy hide. He got carefully to his feet (he had been half-lying the whole time), took few steps away from her and gave his coat a hearty shake. Did not help much with the cold that was setting in, the winter wind that blew from the ocean was hardly any improvement either. "I-I-I th-th-th-ink," I have enough of sea for one day ,but it was a bit too long of a sentence for someone rattling as an old loose glass pane in the frame right next to the busiest street of the town. "Ye-e-r br-r-rave," he uttered and managed to smile awkwardly. "I'l-l-l-l-l fi-i-ind s-s-s-somewhe...re to w-w-w-warm," he said next, but since he was in a company of a leader and he was a subordinate under her rule, he stood and shook, waiting for her to grant him permission to leave.