Dragoncrest Cliffs in a still suburban town

Erzulie was on the prowl, no doubt sequestered with Merlin or Njord somewhere along the coastline. Rosalyn did not seek her out, giving her wife the privacy deserved, and instead also prowled the border herself. Weeks gone by and no desire stirred within her. Perhaps there was still time, but she knew the truth. And as much as she was relieved, in her weariness, there was a loneliness to it as well. She would not plague her wife's happiness with its shadow but it drove her to walk the shore cliffs, eye set on the distant horizon. She felt old, carved from the stone itself, but shorn and cracked at the edges.

Spotting Eadwulf ahead, she thought to avoid him. Still, the melancholy she knew would fade with distraction, and seeking that push she moved forward instead.

How are you finding the shore? She asked, giving a light companionable smile as she drew near. She hadn't checked in but she felt little need to; if all of Sapphique were a family, then the burden of belonging was shared by all. No doubt many among them had made him feel welcome in the days past.