Barrow Fields Wore my language like an amaranth and brand on my tongue

Venting her fury against the ground didn't exactly help but it did tire her out.  Her chest was heaving by the time she slowed and dirt caked her claws.  It settled uncomfortably between them as well but she ignored that.  She just stood with her head lowered and didn't lift it until Ephraim made his presence known.

She didn't recognize him initially for who he was, but she recognized who he resembled.  The dark face and light shoulders made her show her fangs for an instant before she registered the white on his muzzle.  Not her.  But still somehow familiar.

She hadn't thought she'd ever forget Drageda, but at this point all of their faces were as lost as her Ironsea crew.  A few stood out here and there, but their names in turn had vanished.  Even the Captain who brought them together was a white wolf, but his name - what had it been?  All she remembered now were the cliffs themselves and the name of the disbanded group.  Fortunately for her, Erzulie's memory ran longer.

We've met.  She stated with a voice slightly hoarse from the emotion of earlier.  Haven't we?  The way he greeted her definitely implied it, as did the familiarity of his features.  But she could not place him nor find a name to match.