Dragoncrest Cliffs and be yourself my ally in love’s battle

all at once, merlin surged beyond the edge of her paw. erzulie, quite unaware of the hubbub brewing in the heart of her little son — he was not so little but she had doted upon and treasured him as she had not been able to do with her first sons — all this to say that as the sea began to crush erzulie, she thought of her children, of each of their faces, both current and as she remembered them last.
but merlin was surrendered; the cold sand floating in a beige cloud below him signalling how far down they had both come.
above seemed impossible, but she followed, shoulder against his own and her energies draining;
she broke a moment after he did; her gasps were haunted and filled with relief as she turned her attentions toward merlin, forcing her tired forelimbs to bring her around so that his nape might be grasped.
he was awake, churning; together they directed themselves toward shore.
the harlot trembled as her feet touched ground again; she nosed merlin gently along until he was out of wave-reach, and then collapsed alongside him in the sand. 
yet there was satisfaction in her gaze, oddly, as she rolled toward the boy in the next moment, searching him for injury and for the malaise that accompanies seawater inhalation — at length she gave rosalyn a glance, and then njord, though she did not leave merlin's side. 
the first seafoam run concluded, in a true piratical fashion.